


The Monkey on His Back

by Hey_Diddle_Diddle25



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: ... probably, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone is protective of everyone, Happy Ending, M/M, Protective Katsuki Yuuri, Protective Victor Nikiforov, Protective Yuri Plisetsky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:45:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9258482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hey_Diddle_Diddle25/pseuds/Hey_Diddle_Diddle25
Summary: Life moves on after the Grand Prix until strangers start popping up in their mundane life. Then something important of Victor's is stolen and everything changes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What the even heck is this guys? It's certainly something. That's my excuse. It's something. I just got to thinking about Yuri and Victor's past and, though most everybody's theories I've seen stick to the same basics for Yuri, Victor's is a completely different story. And I blame Man From U.N.C.L.E. Victor could totally be an Illya. Sort of.
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy.

The man was watching him.

Yuri wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, arms crossed and back pressed against the wall beside the ice rink’s locker room. He didn’t know if he had just arrived or had been there since morning, watching everyone’s practice.

All Yuri knew was that he glanced up and suddenly all he could see were two piercing blue eyes staring back. Unfortunately for him he’d been in the air when he spotted him, meaning he missed his landing and struck the ice- _hard_.

“Yuratchka!” Yakov’s angry voice shouted, causing him to cringe as he stood back up, “What’s gotten in that fool head of yours boy?”

Yuri shifted his gaze from the stranger to his coach, not at all surprised to see Victor smiling at him from beside the man. He couldn’t spot the other Yuuri though, which was odd- him and Victor were always attached to the hip nowadays.

“Nothing, sir. Won’t happen again,” Yuri replied once it caught up to him that both males were waiting for a reply.

It wouldn’t occur to him until later that they were waiting for him to scream at them, yell something rude and mildly insulting.

His eyes shifted to the spot the man had been standing, missing the surprised expression that crossed over Yakov’s face. He missed Victor’s slightly concerned frown as he followed the youth’s eyes. Not that it mattered, there was no way he could’ve understood.

The man was gone.

“Are you feeling alright Yurio?” Victor asked as he turned his head back towards the blonde boy on the ice staring at the now empty wall with a perplexed expression spread across his youthful features.

“Huh?” Yuri said when he realized the question was directed at him, turning his head to stare at Victor, “No. I’m… fine. I’m fine.”

“ _Yuri_ -?” Victor started but Yuri was already skating towards them, eyes shifting over to spot the man had stood- the spot where he _should’ve_ _been_.

“Yuri, are you feeling alright?” Yakov demanded, bold enough to reach out and latch onto the youth’s arm.

And under normal circumstances Yuri would’ve lashed out- would have already lashed out at the use of Yurio. He would’ve tried picking a fight he knew he was destined to lose just because he liked riling the two older men up, but his mind was on the stranger and his eyes.

Something about them had captivated his very soul, robbing it from his body, and he wanted it back. He just needed to-

“Yuri? What’s wrong?” Victor’s sudden voice demanded and Yuri blinked in shock because the silver haired man was suddenly _right there_ cupping his face in his gloved hands, but this time wasn’t like on that bridge.

This time Victor almost looked worried.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Yuri repeated, voice still numb and caught somewhere in the back of his throat as he wrenched his arm free and moved to look over Victor’s shoulder as he sputtered, “I- I’m going to use the toilet.”

He didn’t bother waiting for a response, already down the hall before either man could protest. He found Victor’s Yuuri in the locker room stretching. The dark haired male immediately smiled upon seeing him.

“ _Yurio_!” he greeted obnoxiously cheerful, but Yuri wasn’t up to acting like his usual self.

He moved past the older man, ignoring him completely. He could feel Yuuri’s piercing gaze on his back, knew what was coming because him and Victor were more alike than either will ever admit.

The stranger wasn’t in there, a conclusion he decided before a hand spun him around. Brown eyes peered back at him in concern as the older man asked if he was alright. A _stupid_ question but then Victor and Yakov were walking in and Yuri suddenly felt crowded.

“I said I was fine!” Yuri shouted at their questions, batting worried hands away as he turned his head to the side and explained, “I thought I saw a man watching me.”

Wrong thing to tell a room full of already concerned older men who got it stuck in their heads that Yuri was a _child_. That Yuri needed the lot of them to protect him, and he’s not stupid. He _knew_ Victor had already interrogated Otabek about his intentions at the banquet after getting the other male too drunk to lie.

 _Friends_.

Otabek and him were just friends, and even if they weren’t it wasn’t any of Victor’s business. He wasn’t his father- not that Yuri had the best example to go on. Now they all looked moments from striking something- all except Yuuri, who looked moments from passing out.

“Oye! What’s wrong with you stupid Katsudon?” he bit out, putting as much fight as he could muster in the simple words.

It worked.

He hadn’t planned it quite like that, will later blame his subconscious for the words. After all, he knew Victor better than he’d ever admit under torture. Perhaps better than he knew himself.

“Yuuri darling?” Victor asked, drawling out the ‘u’ in the Japanese man’s name as his hands circled around his fiancé and holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Yuri knew he was, in Victor’s world.

Yuuri brushed him off, moving out from his hold so he could tighten his grip around Yuri’s shoulders. That was unusual, and Victor stared blankly at the back of his lover’s head.

“Yuri this is important. What _kind of_ man was staring at you?” Yuuri demanded, and his hold _hurt_ more than Yuri ever thought possible from the slender man; Yuuri gave him another shake followed with a repeated, “What kind of man?”

Yuri blinked in realization.

 _Sometimes_ , he realized numbly, _he really is an idiot._ They all thought he was being stared at by some pervert, taking advantage of a young protégé that practically lived by himself, which was wrong. Yuri knew it was. He just couldn’t _put into words_ what he’d felt when he’d locked eyes with the stranger, and he wasn’t sure the others would understand even if he could. They were all stubborn like that; all except maybe Yuuri who still looked moments from passing out.

“No one,” Yuri brushed off looking away as he added softer, “It was just some guy. He was probably just interested at my practice. It wouldn’t have been the first time.”

Victor narrowed his eyes in a glare- warning him of the low blow because _he knew_ people from all around would stop by to watch Victor skate and he’d always brushed it away as excited fans. Yakov and Yuuri still looked unsure, though Yuuri did lessen his monster grip on him.

“Russia is so much different than Japan,” Yuuri noted with an airy sort of smile, eyes soft as he gazed away in thought.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Yakov spoke up, stepping for to separate the two Yuri’s, “and I think that’s plenty of excitement for one day.”

“I agree,” Victor nodded, eyes strangely serious, “Come Yurio. You’re staying over at my place tonight.”

“So I can sleep on that god awful couch of yours? No thanks,” Yuri snapped, the nickname he _hated_ finally re-sparking his fight.

“Alright,” Victor agreed with a nod and expression that informed Yuri that he’d already lost this battle, “Then I can call your grandfather to explain what had happened-”

“ _No_!” Yuri protested, desperation making his voice raw.

His grandpa already did so much for him. He didn’t need for him to unnecessarily start worrying him about trivial matters. It was just a man, men stare at him all the time. It was a part of being practically famous.

To Victor’s credit, he didn’t look particularly smug over his win. He just nodded, eyes looking ancient as they stared at him. Eyes that had always looked straight through him, even before they’d gotten to know each other.

Yuri hated those eyes.

“Just be safe walking back,” Yakov commanded before he was gone, and it wasn’t until closer to morning that Yuri realized his voice had been distracted in that way it got whenever he knew something the rest of them didn’t.

-:-

Victor couldn’t sleep, mind whirling a million miles per hour and he had no idea why. A supposed man staring at Yuri practice had kind of freaked him out at the ice rink, true, but both Yuris were safe in his apartment now, and Yuri had probably been right before.

People coming in to watch the famous figure skaters wasn’t _that_ big of a deal.

Even if said figure skater was only fifteen and had already gone through too much in his short life. He didn’t want to tack on a potential stalker to the mix, especially considering he knew just how quickly it could unravel.

They always seem so harmless until they get it stuck in their head that you _owe_ them something. That they’re somehow a _victim_ trapped in a web you had no intention of weaving, and somewhere along the line you start to believe it as well.

Yuri was too young for that type of burden.

The lump beside him gave a low groan, rolling over so their fingers could intertwine underneath the covers. It wasn’t the first time Yuuri’s sought him out while they slept, more of a cuddlier than Victor thought was possible after discovering drunk Yuuri and sober Yuuri were two completely different people.

What he hadn’t expected was for Yuuri’s soft voice to yawn by his head, “You still awake?”

Victor twisted over so he could stare in his fiancé’s eyes, bringing his fingers up so he could place feather soft kisses along the knuckles. Yuuri just stared back at him, unimpressed and slightly concerned.

“You’re always asleep before me,” Yuuri murmured, shifting slightly, before he asked almost nervously, “Is this about Yuri?”

“Whatever do you mean darling?” Victor inquired with faux innocence despite knowing Yuuri knew Victor understand exactly what he was trying to say.

“It’s why you’re so clingy off the ice,” Yuuri whispered, “so people won’t stare at me like that, but Yuri doesn’t have anyone like that. Plus he’s still young and-”

“It isn’t that,” Victor cut off because the sudden thought of his Yuuri having a stalker made his blood turn to ice, “I’m just… thinking. If it was a fan then why did they leave once it was clear Yuri spotted them? Why wouldn’t they make their presence known?”

Yuuri cocked his head to the side, black strands falling over his sleepy features adorably, as he asked, “So it is about Yuri.”

“Not just Yuri,” Victor confirmed, “Yakov had acted weird when he found out. Yuri didn’t really notice, but I know him. I’ve had to deal with him when my own fans got out of control.”

Yuuri shifted uncomfortably at the prospect as he deduced, “You think he’s involved?”

“I think he knows something the rest of us do not,” Victor corrected before he lowered his gaze and admitted softly, “That’s what frightens me.”

“If that’s true,” Yuuri murmured slowly, eyes bright and thoughtful as he pondered what Victor had just told him, “then I’m sure he was an excellent reason.”

“Nyet. You don’t know him well. He’s a selfish man,” Victor protested, “An excellent teacher but very selfish.”

Yuuri was silent for a long time before he reached out to kiss Victor’s cheek and whispered encouragingly, “You mustn’t really think that if you left Yuri alone with him for a whole season.”

Victor gave a self-discriminating smile as he breathed, “And, how I wonder, do you figure I’m not selfish too?”

“Because I know you and I know you care for Yuri deeply, despite how you act. You wouldn’t leave him alone with someone you didn’t completely trust,” Yuuri replied simply.

Victor blinked at the uttermost faith in his words, even as Yuuri wished him happy dreams before drifting back off.

Victor reached out in the dark just so he could touch Yuuri’s bangs. The hair was soft under his touch, delicate, and he marveled at just how lucky he was to have something as precious as Yuuri. If he had it his way, he’d never let go, which was precisely why Yakov’s actions concerned him.

“How would you know I wouldn’t find something to be selfish over,” he whispered to no one in particular, hating himself and his weakness.

Yuri deserved better.

Perhaps not coach wise because Yakov was _actually_ the best- and he’s raised two of the most prominent skating names out there. Even still Victor could remember a withdrawn and silent Yuri, who wouldn’t do much more than glare at anyone who dared crossed him.

Victor had resented that, hating how a mere child could look at him like he knew something Victor didn’t. Then Victor found out about the kid’s home life, he’d met the kid’s ailing grandfather, and he swore that was it. He’d always be there for him in whichever form the kid needed, and as long as he was there nothing could happen to him.

Then he saw that video of Yuuri skating his performance, and he knew he’d found something he’d treasure over everything else.

 _Selfish_.

And the worst part? Every intelligent person saw it as well, they just hadn’t cared. They’d beamed at him with those cheesy smiles as they congratulated him and Yuuri like everything was okay when they _knew_ just how selfish Victor’s choice had been.

 _Unforgivable_.

And when Yuri confronted him on that bridge his words had been heated, so obviously looking to pick a fight with him. Victor wouldn’t have normally complied but he’d poked at Victor’s weakness, had so clearly seen straight through him from the beginning, and Victor had still done nothing.

_Not every skater looks up to you._

_I’ll show you just how incompetent its owner is._

And when he’d jerked himself free, promising to take the gold, Victor had let him. Victor watched as he walked away, mind screaming at him to explain what he’d done and why. Explain why he’d left the kid after so many promises on the contrary.

Empty promises.

Selfish desires.

And he knew Yuri could see them. Most people could but not quite like Yuri. Yuri saw it all, had seen it in that hall when Victor had hugged him. Had seen how it had never been about him but the other Yuuri and even then he’d fought so Victor could keep the one thing he was afraid of losing. After everything Victor’s done for him, Yuri still fought for him.

Growling in the back of his throat, he rolled out of bed. Yuuri gave a soft whine, immediately burrowing himself further in the covers; Victor remained where he stood, staring down at him with more affection then he’d ever thought he was capable of for anyone, until his mind caught up with him once more and he forced himself away.

Out in his living room Makkachin was on the couch, curled protectively around Yuri’s skinny legs. Yuri didn’t seem to notice, head burrowed in a spare pillow and blanket twisted around his waist. Victor gave another fond smile, different but similar in all the ways that actually counted, as he pulled the blanket back to the youth’s shoulders.

Makkachin looked up, sleepy gaze focusing on Victor. Victor smiled at him, reaching out to pet his poodle’s head. Makkachin snorted contently before laying his massive head back against Yuri’s thigh.

“Watch out for him tonight, da?” Victor whispered and he could’ve sworn he saw his dog blink in agreement.

Yuri murmured lowly in the back of his throat, unconsciously reaching out to pull the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He looked like a child. He was still a child, Victor reminded himself, and he wasn’t sure when he started to care so much and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Which was why Yakov’s earlier unease was keeping him awake at night.

He knew something; he was _hiding_ something from them, which meant the man hadn’t been there because he liked the way Yuri skated. He wasn’t even there to catch a glimpse of the still famous Victor, or the ever growing popular Katsuki Yuuri.

He’d been there for Yakov.

He’d been _staring_ at Yuri.

“What’re you playing at old man?” Victor asked as he tipped his head to the side, crouched on the floor of his living room watching Yuri sleep.

Victor didn’t know, couldn’t feasibly come up with an acceptable reason in his old coach’s defense. One thing Victor was certain of, though.

Come tomorrow he was going to find out _before_ it affected someone Victor cared for.

-:-

“Victor? You’re here early?” Yakov noted, impressed, as Victor narrowed blue eyes at the man and moved to corner him.

Behind him he could hear Yuri complain about the time for the millionth time now, and it was only by the grace of an angel named Yuuri that he hadn’t already struck someone. Someone who would’ve no doubt turned out being Victor the moment he’d yanked the cover off the youth’s sleeping form.

“Why don’t we go warm up Yuri?” Yuuri asked from behind Victor, hands enclosing around the teenager’s shoulders as he already started guiding him towards the locker room.

Yuri grumbled but complied, and Victor wondered if either of them realized what they were doing. He didn’t think so.

“I can say the same for you,” Victor greeted with false cheer, dangerous smile crossing his features as he stared at the man he’d once admired enough to stake his future career on.

Now he had to resist the urge to punch him in the face because he was certain now. That man had been there for Yakov, and he’d caught sight of Yuri and his stare had made Yuri uncomfortable enough that he didn’t brush off the occurrence until Victor was trying to force-feed him carry out.

“I’m always here at this time,” Yakov snorted in that haughty tone of his as he crossed his arms and added lowly, “You were always late, even during competition- _especially_ during competitions.”

“Or maybe you’re waiting for someone,” Victor argued, leaning against the wall as he gazed at the man expectantly.

Yakov’s expressions didn’t give anything way, not that that meant anything. He’s always been good at hiding his emotions.

The image of him holding Yuri up in nothing but pride when he’d broken Victor’s record flashed through his mind. At the time he’d been able to convince himself that he’d been right to leave. Yakov would never have given Yuri the attention he deserved while he was fretting over making Victor’s last couple of years memorable.

Now he couldn’t help but feel disappointed at whatever selfish reason the man had for putting Yuri at risk- putting Victor and Yuuri at risk as well. It could’ve very well been either of them skating on the ice when they’d caught his eye. Except Victor could take care of himself, and he’d rot before he let anything happen to Yuuri.

 _Either one of them_ , he concluded with a silent resolve that only hardened his stare as he gazed back at Yakov.

“Whatever you’re trying to insinuate Victor come on out and say it,” Yakov snarled, crossing his arms and leaning his back against the wall Victor was leaned against.

His hat was hiding his eyes, though, which was all the indication that he was involved in whatever had happened yesterday Victor needed. Victor turned, mimicking Yakov’s posture as he focused blue eyes on the ice in front of him.

“That man had been here for you yesterday,” Victor noted in his usual carefree tone but he’d kept the steel he’s seen unnerve men stronger than Yakov, “but he’d caught sight of Yuri practicing. Should that worry me?”

Yakov snorted, unfazed by Victor’s tone.

“Doubt it,” Yakov replied as he pushed himself from the wall, “Yuri’s improved a lot. It’s rare to see something so beautiful on the ice, wouldn’t you agree?”

Victor’s eyes narrowed even as Yakov moved towards the locker room. He could tell a barb against him when he heard it, but that wasn’t what bothered him. It was the flippant attitude in which Yakov had adapted upon the whole matter.

“Just make sure to remember that he isn’t your tool,” Victor said, watching as Yakov froze. Tense and angry. Victor wondered if he was going to get struck, kind of wished he would.

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind,” and then he was gone.

-:-

Yakov was angry, which made Yuri angry.

Worst, he knew Victor was to blame. Victor and whatever he had said to his coach while Yuuri had drug him to the locker room. Not that Yuri _cared_ what they talked about, only that it had put Yakov in a bad mood.

“You’re back needs to be straighter in your landing!” Yakov screamed at him, face practically red from lack of oxygen.

 _Very_ bad mood.

Yuri didn’t do more than glare, panting from exhaustion. He was thirsty too, not having been permitted a break since getting on the ice.

“Again!” Yakov barked at Yuri’s hard expression.

Yuri’s eyes darkened even as he obeyed, only this time his toes weren’t quite right, and Yuri wasn’t sure why Yakov was scrutinizing him so intensely except whatever he’d spoke with Victor about had unnerved him.

“ _Again_!”

“No,” Yuri snapped before he could stop himself.

Yakov blinked at him in surprise, matched only by Yuri’s own expression. After all they were the only two there, Yakov having already chased Victor and Yuuri off to lunch.

Yakov recovered first, and he recovered _angry_.

“What did you just say to me?” his coach shouted, already moving towards him and Yuri swallowed because he’s never seen that type of expression from him before.

“I- I said no,” Yuri replied, straightening his back in preparation for the fight he knew was coming.

“Why you ungrateful little brat. I have half the mind to beat you,” Yakov snarled, and he’s never been known as nice but he’s never been _cruel_ either.

“Then where would you be?” Yuri challenged skating towards the man, “You can’t hide bruises Yakov, and enough people know my face to know that something would be wrong.”

Yakov scoffed, turning his head, as he growled, “Always so proud, my Yuratchka. _Brass_. It’s not a wonder you have no friends.”

Yuri sniffed, crossing his arms defiantly as he decided, “Victor must’ve put you in a really bad mood. Was he right?”

He shouldn’t have brought up Victor.

He knew better than to bring up Victor, and he’d unfortunately skated close enough that when Yakov pounced on him he’d caught him.

A large hand encircled around Yuri’s arm, jerking him forward. He let out a cry of shock, trying in vain to free himself. Yakov held tight, jerking him so they were practically nose to nose as Yuri’s coach panted angrily. His eyes were dark, narrowed. _Furious_. More furious than Yuri’s ever seen him, the only event even close was after he discovered Victor had run off to Japan.

“After everything I’ve done for you, you ungrateful little-” Yuri missed whatever he said next, drowned out by the static rushing through his ears.

_“Stupid ungrateful little shit. I can’t believe I work all day only to come home and have to babysit a child.”_

_“Stupid, stupid, stupid. That’s all you ever are. Stupid as you are hideous.”_

_“No one loves you boy. Not your mother, not me. You’re nothing but a sad accident. A mistake two people made a long time ago.”_

_“No one could ever love a weak little thing like you.”_

_“How did I ever earn a bastard son like you?”_

Something shook him, breaking him from his thoughts.

He blinked, and he was no longer a little kid standing in front of his father. He was back on the ice rink, Yakov staring at him with a wide eyed expression. And Yuri knew the man wasn’t his father, he’d never intentionally do anything to hurt him. Just scream at him for a bit.

“I-” Yuri muttered before his knees went weak and Yakov had to catch him underneath his armpits.

“Yuri? Talk to me boy,” Yakov commanded, giving him a slight jostle as Yuri tried to blink and clear his head.

“I’m sorry,” Yuri whispered softly moving away from his coach, “I’m going to get some water.”

He removed his skates, pulling on his high tops before making his break to the hallway where he found a water fountain. Then he kicked it, the sound resonating in the empty hall. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, and he couldn’t remember the last time he shed a tear over his parents.

“I’m _not_ weak,” Yuri forced past his closing panic, “I’m _strong_.”

 _Strength is nothing without beauty_ , Lilia had once told him, _as long as you master both you can never lose. You’ll never lose ever again._

“I _am_ strong father,” Yuri breathed, hands shaking so badly he had to cram them into his pockets as he repeated, “I’m strong, and I’m beautiful.”

His knees went weak once more, and this time no one was there to keep him up. He collapsed in the middle of the hallway, his breath coming out in quick heavy pants. He wasn’t a fool. He recognized what this was.

Panic attack.

He hadn’t had one of those since his grandpa got him away. Only a few know what it had been like at his home before he’d gotten away. Now it was smacking him in the face full force, mocking whatever life he’s tried building in the last couple of years.

_You’ll get nothing good because you deserve nothing good._

_You_ are _nothing._

“No,” Yuri protested, “I am strong. I am beautiful. You were wrong. You’ve always been wrong. My name is Yuri Plisetsky, and I have the eyes of the soldier.”

He rose to his feet, pulling out his phone and dialing without thinking. He moved towards the bathroom, locking himself in one of the stalls as he waited out the ringing praying for them to answer.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

_Pick up, please._

_Ring._

“Yuri?” a tired masculine voice asked and Yuri realized there was a thirteen hour difference but he’d never been more relieved to hear the sound of another person’s voice before.

“Beka?” Yuri asked, biting back the sob building in the back of his throat.

“Yura?” Otabek asked adopting his Victor’s nickname for him that one time he’d unintentionally overheard, “Is everything alright?

“I’m fine,” Yuri promised leaning against the door and tipping his head back so he was staring at the ceiling, “I just missed your voice is all.”

“Yuri? Has something happened?” Otabek pressed and Yuri hadn’t realized he’d missed the other male until just then.

“No. I just- I needed someone to talk to.”

“Alright,” Otabek agreed and Yuri imagined him nod, “You can talk. I’ll listen.”

So Yuri did. Nothing important, nonsense mostly, but Otabek listened to all of it. Every word without interruption and when Yuri finally hung up his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.

Schooling his expression Yuri pocketed his phone and left the bathroom. Victor and Yuuri were on the ice; Yakov was nowhere to be seen. He hoped the man hadn’t picked a fight with the couple before he left because Victor’s proven in the past that there were some fights Yakov was always destined to lose.

Yuuri saw him first, face breaking out in a bright smile as he waved and called, “ _Yurio_!”

Victor spun around, greeting him just as enthusiastically. Yuri just gave them a droll stare before making a point to glance around.

“Where’s Yakov?” he asked because he needed to discuss what had happened.

“We haven’t seen him,” Yuuri informed him shifting a nervous glance towards Victor and Yuri may act like he didn’t like the man but it always impressed him on how quickly he’s capable of reigning in the other male.

“Did something happen Yuri?” Victor asked starting to close the distance between them.

“No,” Yuri reassured moving towards the locker room, “I’m fine.”

He missed the shared look between Victor and Yuuri. He missed the way Yuuri suddenly grasped Victor’s wrist, fingers messaging the flesh soothingly. He missed the way the ice in Victor’s eyes melted at the touch.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yuuri asked.

“No,” Yuri brushed off with a wave of his hand, “I’ll be fine.”

He turned the corner to the locker room, missing the concerned look the couple shared. Yakov wasn’t in there either. Yuuri and Victor were still in the same spot he’d left them staring like he killed Victor’s dog. Ridiculous because- even though he’s more of a cat person- he’d never hurt that poodle.

“What’d you two want?” Yuri snapped heatedly.

Yuuri’s hand shifted to Victor’s arm. A harmless touch to anyone except for Yuri who’s spent the majority of his time nowadays staring at their lame selves.

“We just want you to be okay,” Yuuri promised, “You’re not alone. You know that right?”

Yuri tried not to be touched- he really did- but the genuine look in Yuuri’s expression sent something tickling his insides. So all he did was sigh and nod, resigned but fine. He was fine. He was strong. He _is_ strong, and his father had been wrong.

And he was going to prove it.

-:-

“Mister Feltsman, can we talk?”

The voice sounded small. Timid. Not at all Russian.

Yakov looked up to see Victor’s Japanese little pet project, Katsuki Yuri, staring back at him expectantly. He looked nervous- _unsure_ \- yet his eyes betrayed his strength and he’ll forever blame Victor’s influence on that.

Not that he held any ill feelings towards the man. He’d seen his growth in confidence. He’d seen his growth as a skater, having transformed into something almost beautiful. He’d seduced Victor, practically stole him from his homeland.

“What’s the occasion?” Yakov demanded.

“I wanted to speak with you about Yuri, sir,” Yuuri explained and Yakov felt his heart stutter in his chest even as Yuuri continued with a tilted head, “Did something happen while we were gone?”

On a lunch break Yuuri had suggested. Something Yakov had appreciated at the time, Victor practically breathing down his neck the entire time. He’d always approved of the way Victor had treated Yuri, had been happy to see someone with such a broken past have someone who cared so much even before he knew everything.

Then Yuri had… been Yuri. Yakov had pushed him too far- had known he’d been _pushing_ it too far- but once he had started he hadn’t wanted to stop. He wanted to see how far he could push before he broke the youth.

Consequently, he’d taken too far and even then he hadn’t stopped. He’d grabbed the boy without his permission. He’d done so with a malicious intent, and when he saw the sudden panic in the boy’s eyes Yakov felt something close to real horror.

He hadn’t meant it.

He’d never mean anything like that. Yuri had- Lord help him- grown to mean something to him, and his sudden vulnerability made him feel lost and hapless for the first time in a long time.

“Yuri and I had a disagreement,” Yakov explained vaguely, “It became escalated.”

“You’re telling me,” Yuuri snorted unimpressed, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Yakov shook his head as he brushed off, “I’d rather not and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t push this matter further.”

“Like you pushed Yuri?” the younger male demanded even as he stepped aside to allow Yakov to pass, “Was it something you said?”

Yakov froze, shoulders tense.

“Except it wasn’t, not really?” Yuuri continued, taking Yakov’s presence as an invitation to keep talking, “Yuri doesn’t just react to words carelessly thrown about. He has thick skin in that perspective, but even still he is just a child. I’m sure you already knew that, though, being his coach and all.”

Perhaps he’d underestimated the Japanese skater.

“Do you have a point to all of this?” Yakov grunted without turning because he was afraid of what he’d find on the young man’s face.

“What’d you do to him Mister Feltsman?” and Yakov did turn so he saw the knowing expression on the older Yuuri’s face.

It sent chills down the older man’s spine. Wrapping down before curling at the base of his back like a dragon. Stressed. Anxious.

“What’re you hinting at boy?” he demanded instead because he knew better than to try and justify what he’d did to either Yuuri or Victor.

Yuuri didn’t appear deterred, not even fazed, as he stepped forward. His face was an eerie calm, eyes burning. It was no wonder Victor had been so entranced by the male before him, whereas Victor was ice: deadly as he is beautiful, Yuuri was fire. He burned so bright, leaving a sort of afterglow wherever he went.

“If you ever touch or hurt Yuri Plisetsky again I’ll make you regret it. I don’t know how, and if you’re half as smart as I think you are then you won’t test me to find out. Are we clear Mister Feltsman?” his tone was even and almost civil but his words left a sour taste in the back of Yakov’s throat.

He didn’t doubt for a moment that Yuuri would do well on his promise, and that he only looked harmless. Acted harmless as long as no one he cared for was threatened. He just hadn’t thought that the Japanese Yuuri cared for the Russian Yuri- not with how the boy had treated him. That he’d only _tolerated_ him because Victor so clearly favored the younger skater.

Yuuri flashed him another smile before he walked past him and down the hall, leaving Yakov contemplating how he’d been wrong about the Japanese skater. _Drastically_ so.

He hadn’t approved of their relationship because he felt like Yuuri had stolen his best student. Then he came to see him as a threat, had watched as he practically climbed the ladder as he reached for the top and it had been shaky but he’d managed to pull himself together enough to get second place by a mere _0.12_ points.

This side Yakov had yet to see until just now, and he suddenly wished that he had never gotten the honor.

-:-

Victor found Yuri sitting on one of the benches outside, bag propped in his lap and hood pulled over his head. Strands of blond hair cascading over pale skin as he tapped aggressively on his phone’s screen. Normal for the teen, not at all like how he’d been acting earlier.

“Yuri?” Victor asked, voice unsure as blue eyes waited patiently for the boy pick up on his presence.

He didn’t even flinch.

Victor stepped closer, hand reaching out to settle on the boy’s shoulder. Yuri leapt out of his seat, spinning around so he could glare up at him. His hands reached up to jerk his headphones so they dangled around his neck.

“What the _hell_ Victor?” the boy snapped but Victor saw the way the boy’s shoulders had tremored slightly at Victor’s touch.

What did Yakov do while they were out getting lunch?

“What were you doing just sitting out here Yuri?” Victor asked instead trying as best as he could to keep the worry note from his voice.

He probably failed considering the way Yuri’s eyes narrowed up at him and the way the boy snarled defensively, “That’s none of your business _stupid_ Victor.”

“I’m just worried about you,” Victor explained, hands raised in front of him in a placating gesture, “Please don’t shut me out.”

“That’s _great_ coming from you considering you couldn’t even remember your promises you made to me before,” Yuri growled voice overwrought like a tightly wound coil, “Why are you suddenly pretending to care about me?”

“I do care for you though,” Victor tried as he stepped forward; Yuri stepped back, eyes untrusting and narrowed and Victor knew why he was secluded himself from the rest of the world; he just always figured that where it really counted he wouldn’t- not like this, not with him.

“Bullshit and we both know it,” Yuri growled before he released a heavy sigh and concluded, “We both know you’re only playing nice with me. I don’t know why, and I don’t care. Just stop. I already told you I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine Yura. I just want what’s best for you,” Victor pleaded anyways.

“Don’t call me that!” Yuri finally snapped and Victor stepped back as his heart momentarily halted in his chest; Yuri slung his bag around his neck as he added softer, “Just leave me alone Victor. _Please_.”

Victor stepped back even as Yuri continued to inch away from him. His eyes were wide as they peered up at him expectantly, and Yuri held his vulnerability well from the world so it was always so easy to forget just how young he really was- how broken his childhood had truly left him.

“Whatever you want,” Victor promised, and Yuri stared up at him for a long moment before he swallowed, gave a brisk nod and hurried away.

And Victor just stood there- trying to not feel like a complete jackass- until Yuuri found him several minutes later asking if he was alright.

“I’m fine darling,” Victor promised as Yuuri reached up to kiss his cheek.

“You’ve always been a terrible liar Victor,” Yuuri purred in his ear and it would’ve normally sent chills down Victor’s spine but this time was different- all he felt was numb.

“Let’s call it a day,” Victor said instead turning his attention back to his expectant fiancé, “I promised you dinner after all. You’re choice, name it.”

Yuuri’s hand traced along Victor’s shoulder as he murmured, “I’m not really hungry for food. Rain check?”

And the excitement hidden behind Yuuri’s gaze, promising a delightful sort of night, Victor finally felt the beginning of something. He pulled Yuuri away, grinning down at him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Of course _darling_ ,” Victor agreed bending down to whisper in Yuuri’s ear, “whatever you want. Just tell me and it’s yours.”

-:-

“What did Yuri say?” Yuuri’s husky voice asked, tilting his head back so he could stare up at Victor.

They were curled up on Victor’s bed, Victor’s arm wrapped around Yuuri’s waist so he could hold him securely against him. It was Yuuri’s favorite moment, one of the few he felt safe. Secure. Like the world could end at that moment, and it wouldn’t affect them. The world couldn’t touch them, couldn’t change this moment.

Something had been nagging along the edges of Yuuri’s brain, though, and it worried him by how tightly Victor was clinging to him. Almost as if he was afraid of losing him too.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself over my love,” Victor reassured too quickly, burrowing his nose in Yuuri’s hair as he planted soft kisses along his crown.

“I am concerned though,” Yuuri protested, twisting so he was facing Victor and pulling them apart.

He twisted their fingers together as compensation, though, and Victor bent forehead so their foreheads were touching. Affectionate and practically touch starved from the way he would act- especially in the bed together.

“I really wished you wouldn’t,” Victor breathed in his face, taking advantage of the moment to kiss his nose lightly.

“I know,” Yuuri nodded before pulling his head away once more so Victor would focus on the matter at hand, “What did you two talk about while I wasn’t around?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you and my coach discussed?” Victor deflected, and Yuuri narrowed his gaze.

He’d learned a long time ago that when Victor didn’t want to open up about something that it’d take a lot more than a couple of stolen kisses and shared body heat for him to open up. This wasn’t just some bad day Victor didn’t want to talk about in bed. This was about his relationship with Yuri, and Yuuri wasn’t about to let their stubbornness drive each other away.

It felt slightly controlling, but Yuuri didn’t care and if opening up to Victor was what it took then he was more than willing to comply.

“I warned him to not let his anger control his actions,” Yuuri murmured tracing his fingers around Victor’s biceps, “Now you. What’d Yuri say?”

Victor sucked in a deep breath before he caved in and replied, “In short? Piss off.”

“I’m not British though I do appreciate the filter,” Yuuri informed him, rising up to kiss the corner of Victor’s mouth.

Victor smiled, hand reaching up to brush his bangs from his face. Yuuri ducked away from the hand, frowning up at his fiancé. Victor made a distressed noise in the back of his throat.

“What did _you_ say to Yuri?” Yuuri inquired and Victor’s blue eyes narrowed into a glare; Yuuri smiled up at him, keeping his expression carefree and almost jovial.

He knew it would work just like he knew Victor was a sucker for that smile.

Victor still huffed in agitation at the questions but he complied, “I didn’t get much out before he started shouting at me. Now can we please stop speaking of another man in bed?”

He swooped down to steal another kiss. Yuuri caught his mouth with his palm; Victor’s eyes furrowed together.

“Firstly, Yuri isn’t just another man. He’s a fifteen year old kid that I know you care for so quit acting like you don’t because he hurt your feelings,” Yuuri said with his own sort of steel underlining his words, “and I know that he cares for you too. At the very least he doesn’t want you to just leave him again.”

He removed the hand so Victor could demand in an agitated tone, “Leave him? Last I checked I wasn’t the one who screamed at the person trying to help.”

Yuuri made a displeased noise in the back of his throat as he chided, “Quit acting like such a child Victor. It’s unbecoming.”

Victor sat up on his arm as he accused, “I’m getting the feeling that you’re very biased against me.”

Yuuri leaned forward, leaning in so Victor was forced to lay back down as he hummed, “I’m currently _engaged_ with you Victor. I’d walk through Hell and back for you. I’d die if I thought it’d keep you safe and happy. Don’t insinuate such things about me.”

Victor stared up at him, blue eyes wide and watery, as he asked with a soft whine, “Why are you saying such horrid things all of a sudden?”

“Because the difference between you and Yuri is that Yuri is an _actual_ child and you merely act like one,” Yuuri explained, “So what’re you going to do about this?”

Victor tipped his head to the side, silver bangs falling in his face as he reached up to dangle his hands over Yuuri’s shoulders as he replied, “I could kiss you.”

“Except that wouldn’t really solve your current dilemma,” Yuuri shut down, sitting up so he was straddling Victor’s hips.

“I don’t know Yuuri,” Victor admitted sounding as lost and mournful as he looked.

Yuuri stared at him for a long moment before bending over to plant a soft kiss to Victor’s cheek before whispering in his ear, “Have you tried talking to him?”

“I think it’s been concluded that talking to him isn’t the best approach,” Victor reminded with a hard look that had Yuuri smiling down at him fondly.

He climbed off him so he could settle beside him on the bed as he suggested simply, “So invite him to breakfast.”

Blue eyes narrowed.

“What?” Victor demanded, earning him another peck on the cheek.

“Invite him to breakfast,” Yuuri repeated like it was obvious because, really, it wasn’t overly complicated before he elaborated, “Yuri is shutting you out because- in his eyes- he practically doesn’t exist until something happens to him. Then you puff your feathers out like some predatory bird trying to maintain dominance.”

“I do _not_ ignore him,” Victor protested but Yuuri shushed him by pressing his fingers to his lips and giving him a narrowed glare.

“You might as well Victor,” Yuuri informed him, “because despite what you very well think Yuri is a very affectionate person, and all he wants is to be noticed by you so why don’t you try _noticing_ him for once? Invite him to breakfast. Tomorrow. Before practice, you can even walk together.”

“And what about you?” Victor asked.

“I’ve lived here long enough to know my way to the rink. I’ll be fine for a day,” Yuuri brushed off, waving his hand in the air.

Victor rolled over, laying in the crook of his elbow as he stared up at Yuuri and challenged, “What if he says no?”

Yuuri scoffed, glancing away before back down at the older man and replied, “He’s definitely going to say no, but you’re going to get your lazy butt out of bed and go the diner regardless.”

Victor’s eyes bugged from his skull as he demanded, “Why would I do that?”

“Because he just wants to know that you care for him more than you do yourself,” Yuuri explained bending over to kiss Victor’s lips before going to climb from bed; he threw Victor’s phone at his head as he commanded, “Call him while I’m in the shower. I mean it Victor.”

Then he snagged one of Victor’s sweatshirts from his drawer before disappearing in the bathroom.

-:-

Five minutes.

Victor stared at the phone for five whole minutes, Yuuri’s words replaying over and over again in his head. It didn’t make any sense. Breakfast, maybe. After all, since moving to Russia the two Yuris have bonded more than Victor will ever like to admit so Yuuri should know better than anyone else.

But to eat alone?

Is Yuuri crazy?

Eventually he realized it all came down to one thing so that was how he ended up- five minutes later- sitting on the edge of his bed calling someone who made it clear that they didn’t want talk to him. Yuri did answer, though, so at least that was something.

“What could _you_ possibly want, stupid Victor?” the agitated voice greeted him hotly.

“It’s good to hear from you too Yuri,” Victor replied though with considerably less cheer than he would have normally, “I’ve called to ask if you would like to eat breakfast with me tomorrow before practice.”

“Eat breakfast? With you and that stupid Katsudon?” Yuri demanded, Victor’s blood boiling slightly at the barb against Yuuri but Yuuri had already promised he didn’t mind it and that Victor was probably more jealous that he got a nickname and Victor didn’t.

“No. Just me,” Victor explained and Yuri paused so long Victor had thought he’d hung up so he asked, “Hello?”

“My answer is no,” was all he got before there was a soft click indicating that Yuri had hung up on him.

Victor sat the phone by his side, long fingers tapping in thought. He prided himself in all things Yuri, but at the moment both of them were baffling him and he was at a loss of trying to figure out some sort of solution.

Twelve minutes later Yuuri emerged, his lithe form practically swallowed by one of Victor’s old sweatshirts that had been too big on _him_. Gifts from the other competitors, ones that had no doubt previously been possessed without the intent of just being handed off.

Victor always had that way with people.

Except for Yuri. And Yuuri.

“How’d the call go?” Yuuri asked drying damp hair with the towel and Victor knew the other male had already figured out how it went and was asking for no other reason than to yank his chain.

“Fine. Just fine,” Victor responded.

“Really?” Yuuri’s surprised voice asked and he looked so excited all of a sudden, “That’s fantastic! Really it is! I thought for certain that he’d say no.”

“Yeah,” Victor agreed even as Yuuri wrapped his neck in a tight hug, “I guess you underestimated me, huh?”

Yuuri pulled away to stare back at him earnestly as he nodded and replied, “Yes. I did, but I’m so happy for you Victor. Truly. This is fantastic.”

And now he had a breakfast date with himself.

Just great.

-:-

Yuri wasn’t there, big surprise. He’d verbally told him he wasn’t showing up but because Yuuri had been so excited about the prospect of Victor not having strained their relationship unintentionally he set an alarm and was sitting in the small diner by himself before the sky woke up.

“More coffee Mr. Nikiforov?” the waitress- a petite brunette with ringlet curls and perhaps revealing too much cleavage to be considered professional- asked him for the tenth time in the last five minutes.

Before that it was if his eggs were scrambled enough and before that it was what he’d like to order anything extra. She was making excuses to come talk to him and considering Victor had never offered a name she was a fan or at the very least acquainted with figure skating.

She must not realize he’s engaged. Perhaps he should introduce her to Phichit Chulanont’s social media accounts.

Then again…

He winked and smiled even as he denied, “No thanks miss.”

Her face burned a bright red, and she stumbled on her way back to the kitchen. Definitely a fan then, one that mustn’t figure Yuuri as much of a threat considering he’s male.

Victor scoffed in his coffee, smile melting into an irritated scowl because it was much too early. He could be in bed, snuggling with Yuuri and instead he was being hit on with the waiting staff.

“Not everyone knows about you and Yuuri, you know,” a tight voice informed and Victor nearly spit the bitter coffee all over the moody teen sitting across from him; Yuri smiled thinly as he noted, “Your senses must be failing you in your old age.”

Victor blinked, just to ensure himself that he wasn’t imagining it, before he asked perhaps a little too eagerly, “I thought you said you weren’t coming.”

“And I wasn’t going to,” Yuri reassured with a haughty tone before he ducked his expression underneath a curtain of blonde hair as he explained softly, “I didn’t actually think you were going to show up.”

Victor tipped his head to the side as he inquired confusedly, “Then what are _you_ doing here?”

Yuri shrugged his shoulders before the waitress returned, and Victor didn’t miss the sudden cold tone she used when she realized Victor had received company. Yuri didn’t seem to mind, demanding one of the more expensive things on the menu before reassuring her that he wasn’t paying for the meal- _Victor_ was.

Victor’s head shot up at that, and he _meant_ to deny the claim. He really did, but one glance at the childishly innocent expression on Yuri’s face (which was fake, Victor knew, but still very convincing) accompanied by the expectant look on the waitress’s and he flashed another one of his seductive grins.

“Isn’t that right Victor?” Yuri asked adopting a sudden unsure frown as the waitress folded her arms waiting for Victor to tell her that Yuri wasn’t much more of a punk and needed to be booted from the establishment immediately.

“Of course. Why would there ever be a question of doubt?” Victor innocently inquired, and the waitress’s face turned red once more as she disappeared back in the kitchen.

Yuri waited six seconds before he burst out in laughter. Real genuine laughter that made Victor’s heart swell with a surprising warmth. He couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“I’m so glad that you’re here,” Yuri admitted so suddenly and Victor stopped laughing as he stared back at the boy who continued, “They would’ve never served me otherwise. They’re not the biggest fans of _children_.”

“But she’s a fan of skating,” Victor protested and Yuri’s name may not be as well-known as Victor’s yet but it was enough so.

“No. She’s a fan of attractive men that appear on the news occasionally,” Yuri explained as he propped his elbows on the table and asked with that deceptive innocence again, “Do you think she’s going to spit in my food?”

It was meant to be teasing but the thought sent something hot curling in Victor’s stomach as he glared in the direction she kept disappearing off to as he growled, “She better not.”

“You do know that I don’t need you to constantly try to rescue me, right?” Yuri queried a little more seriously, narrowing his eyes at him.

Victor offered him a smile- different than the one he kept giving the waitress, more genuine- as he replied, “I know. I just know what it is like, feeling alone all the time.”

“And let me guess,” Yuri interpreted with a droll stare and tilt of his head, “you’re always there for me. No matter what it is, I call and you’ll be there. A little sappy for you, don’t ya think?”

Victor sniffed, reaching out to capture one of the boy’s hands into his as he promised, “Regardless of sap one phone call and I’ll be there. I promise.”

Yuri snapped his hand away as he murmured with a lowered expression, “I think we can both agree how much you suck at promises Victor.”

This time Victor just settled his fingers on top of Yuri’s enclosed fists as he reassured determinedly, “This one is different. I never want to see you hurt, and I won’t make it easy for those who try it.”

“Is that what this is?” Yuri asked raising his head so he could stare at him- scrutinize him with his eyes- even as he demanded, “Another fake assurance made by the great Victor Nikiforov? How many hearts have you broken with that line?”

Victor leaned forward, locking eyes with the youth, as he purred, “Why Yuri you must very well know by now that blonde really isn’t my type, and you’re much too young for my tastes. Besides, haven’t you heard, I’m an engaged man.”

He held up his ring just to spite the boy and Yuri’s frown deepened.

Even still, he hadn’t moved his hand out from underneath Victor’s fingers.

“Put that thing away,” Yuri snapped with an uneasy glance around, “You don’t have to turn everything into an excuse to flaunt it around.”

It didn’t matter that the words were meant to hold bite in them. It didn’t matter that they ended with Yuri demanding about his lack of food- quite loudly at that. None of it mattered because Victor had picked up on the kid’s nervousness almost instantly.

Something wasn’t right.

A quick look around revealed that the only other costumer was a man sitting at a table by the restrooms. He was well-groomed, hair slicked back with meticulous care. Even his eyebrows appeared to have been plucked recently. It was his suit that had caught Victor’s attention, though.

Dark.

Expensive.

 _Italian_.

Victor pulled out his wallet, throwing more than enough money to cover the two of them, before he commanded for Yuri to grab his jacket because they were leaving, and the kid made a show of leaving but his eyes kept flickering over to the man in the corner.

_Please no. Not him. Anyone but him._

The man rose with them, started after them, but Victor already had them outside yanking Yuri towards the street with actual people. Witnesses.

“What’s gotten into you stupid Victor?” Yuri demanded, keeping step despite the fact Victor was still trying to drag him along.

_No. That was impossible. Yuri wasn’t actually caught up with that type of people. It was just a coincidence. Victor believed in coincidences, kind of._

“Victor!” Yuri shouted once they reached the main road.

Victor ignored him, flagging down the nearest car promising a ridiculous amount of money for a ride no longer than a couple of blocks. The driver stared at him like he was insane but had agreed like Victor knew he would.

People were just inherently selfish.

“What’s gotten into you?” Yuri demanded as Victor shoved him inside the backseat of the car, “I can walk you idiot.”

“The man at the restaurant,” Victor said instead slamming the door behind him, “Was he the same man you saw the other day at practice?”

Yuri blinked at the question, and Victor’s heart stop- _dear Lord, no, not him, please_ \- before he slowly shook his head and Victor remembered how to breathe again. He was just overreacting; he’d been out of Russia too long, and everything was okay.

At least he thought so until he glanced out the window catching sight of the man from the restaurant standing on the street corner, dark gaze following the car Victor had practically forced them both inside. Yuri had noticed too, frame going rigid even as Victor set a reassuring hand over the youth’s.

“Victor?” Yuri asked, and Victor sucked in a deep breath as he shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he muttered thankful he only had to worry about one Yuri- not sure if he could’ve handled if both had been placed in such obvious danger- before he added, “but you shouldn’t walk by yourself anymore.”

Yuri scowled as he protested, “You’re not my father Victor.”

The car stopped, and Victor ushered Yuri out with one hand as he handed the man the remaining rubles he had on him. They stared up at him in bafflement, but Victor was too distracted to notice.

“I’m well aware of that fact Yuri,” Victor promised, fingers closing around the boy’s wrist as he jerked them both towards the rink, “and I’d rather you stop comparing me to such a useless excuse for a human being.”

“He’s _not_ useless,” Yuri defended just so he could pick a fight with him.

Victor wasn’t really in the fighting mood. He moved them further inside, pulling out his phone to command Yuuri to hitch a ride and to not walk, before they were in the locker room. Yuri blinked up at him, probably waiting for some sort of explanation.

Victor wasn’t really in the sharing mood at the moment.

“Get ready,” Victor commanded gesturing towards the youth and his heartrate had finally leveled back out as he remembered to breathe, “I’ll help you with some of your technique.”

Yuri scowled even as he moved to obey and he demanded, “You know not all skaters look up to you right?”

Victor flashed him a smile as he teased lightheartedly, “You’re the only one I can recall with that little defect. Seems you’ve always had your eyes set on more _exotic_ skaters. Seems we’re not as different as you’d like to think after all.”

Yuri floundered, probably trying to figure out when Victor had pieced together that it had always been Yuuri and not him that Yuri admired. Not that Victor minded- Yuuri was an excellent skater and deserved his rightful attention. He’d just never thought sharing other’s admiration would be so hard- especially not the moody kid currently before him.

Yuri hid his face yet again behind his hair as he muttered, “ _Stupid_ Victor. No idea what he’s talking about. Just suddenly freaking out before I got to eat.”

Now that most of the adrenaline had worn off Victor found himself feeling slightly embarrassed at the fact that he’d hulled them so quickly from the restaurant.

His phone beeped, indicating Yuuri’s response.

_Everything okay?_

Victor stared at it for a long moment before back at Yuri as he replied: _Haven’t decided yet but it will be. Promise. And bring bagels._

Yuuri didn’t text back which meant he was going to obey, and Victor felt his chest lighten considerably. The thing at the restaurant didn’t mean anything. He’d been overreacting. That was all. He’d just have to keep telling himself that until he believed it himself.

“You ready Yura?” and this time the boy didn’t protest at the nickname.

He just narrowed his eyes further- distrusting and confused- as he replied, “Sure.”

And he proved to be an excellent distraction, the strange man completely out of Victor’s mind by the time Yuuri showed up thirty minutes later with bottled water and a bag of bagels Yuri practically consumed by himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Victor wasn’t sure when Yakov had finally arrived, only that it was after Yuri consumed an impressive amount of bagels (pumpernickel being his favorite, apparently) and after both of them had looked at Victor and demanded that he went to fetch something sweet and bubbly.

When he’d returned it was to see Yuri on the ice with his fiancé. They seemed to be taking turns at giving each other advice on how to improve. After all, Yuuri was better at the technical stuff and Yuri was better at the spins.

It was nice to see them bonding, but Victor was a selfish creature and hated that he’d been excluded. Especially considering that Victor was still the most renowned skater of all time, having won the most gold medals.

Yet here they were- two of the most important people in Victor’s life- _excluding_ him.

So why was he smiling?

Yuri Plisetsky was the first to notice his return. Yuuri was standing with his arms crossed- a position Victor adapted while they were in Japan training- and Yuri had turned to look at him. The kid wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t frowning either.

Then he locked eyes with Victor and his face hardened as his eyes flickered to the bag Victor was holding.

“What took you so long _stupid_ Victor?” he snapped though his voice lacked its usual bite.

Yuuri turned at his name, a bright smile spreading across his features. At least one of them acted like they were happy to see him, though in all fairness Yuri only pretended to not like seeing him. Victor knew he was.

Yuri made it to him first, snatching the sodas from him as Yuuri laughed good-naturedly. Victor pecked him on the cheek before turning to the teenager that had already gulped down half the bottle of the orange drink Victor just bought.

“You shouldn’t drink so vigorously,” Yuuri chided him with an airy smile crossing his features, “You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Bah,” Yuri disregarded though he did screw the lid back on the bottle and set it beside the now empty bagel bag, “I’m Russian. We don’t get sick on such trivial things.”

Yuuri huffed indigently, turning to Victor demanding with his eyes for him to take his side. Victor just laughed at both of them, chest light and happier than he’d been in a long time, as he planted another kiss against Yuuri’s cheek.

“He’s right darling,” Victor agreed and Yuri made a triumphant noise even as Yuuri turned his glare towards him.

“I don’t appreciate being ganged up on,” Yuuri informed him, and Victor laughed again as he kissed Yuuri’s cheek again.

“I’d never darling,” Victor promised with a lidded gaze, “I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

Yuuri’s gaze softened though Victor suspected that he’d never really been upset with them. Like Victor it warmed his heart whenever the other got along with Yuri, which was odd. When did either one of them become so eager to see the teenager get along with others.

Maybe that was why they got along so well with Otabek, who hadn’t bothered hiding his interest in the blonde boy. Not that Victor was going to protest all that much- as long as the other male didn’t end up breaking Yuri’s heart.

“You two are gross,” Yuri noted, stretching the grin across Yuuri’s face as he turned back to the youth; Victor tried not to frown, though in compensation he did tighten his arm around his fiancé’s waist possessively.

“You’re so cute when you pretend to hate us,” Yuuri replied and Yuri’s face soured further as he turned away with a huff.

This time it was Victor’s turn to laugh, burrowing another kiss on the top of Yuuri’s scalp. Yuri made a gagging sound even though he couldn’t have seen Victor’s show of affection.

“I think we’ve had enough rest. Come now Yuuri. Onto the ice,” Victor herded Yuuri towards the rink, and Yuri turned at the sound of his name until he must’ve realized Victor wasn’t speaking to him because Victor wasn’t his coach.

“You know I don’t hate you right Katsudon?” Yuri suddenly asked and Victor nearly tripped over Yuuri’s sudden immobile body.

“What?” Yuuri demanded turning to face Yuri, the youth’s face suddenly bright red with embarrassment; he turned away so he was no longer looking at them, shuffling uncomfortably.

“You either stupid Victor,” he added in a low grumble, “I don’t hate either one of you.”

Victor’s heart swelled in his chest, even as Yuuri breathed teary-eyed, “You know that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to us right?”

Yuri’s blush intensified as he turned away. He made a low hiss slash growling noise, bright eyes hidden behind the curtain of blonde bangs. Victor’s heart fluttered because he’d left under the impression that he was leaving _everything_ in Russia. He started to believe it for a long time too and isn’t sure how he lucked out the way he did.

If the roles had been reversed Victor would’ve never gotten over it. He’d never learn to forgive, adapt and accept circumstances out of his control and he could picture every promise he’d ever made the youth. He didn’t forget- he never forgets- but it was easier to pretend that he did.

Yuri was stubborn and could be especially determined when given the proper motivation. It took him a while to realize Victor wasn’t that motivation, and maybe that was it. Yuri couldn’t remain angry forever because it had never been about Victor.

Victor suddenly wanted it to be about him.

How stupid and childish was that? To be the center of both males’ world, to know that they wanted him in their world.

“You’re an idiot,” Yuri suddenly snapped at Victor before turning to Yuuri and claimed, “and you’re still a fat pig.”

Yuuri smiled fondly, hand encasing Victor’s like he thought he’d have to hold him back. If it was anyone else he would’ve but sometime after the Grand Prix Yuri’s words didn’t affect him like they normally would. It was a curious feeling because Yuuri was perfect and no one was allowed to say hurtful things to him and he’d _kill_ for him.

“He’s kind of cute when he’s flustered don’t you think?” Yuuri asked, batting brown eyes up at him and Victor found that an easy smile had already started to cross his features.

“He’s always cute darling,” Victor hummed bring up their enclosed hands to his mouth so he could kiss the back of Yuuri’s hand.

Yuri gagged at them, still frowning furiously.

“I take it all back. I hate you both so much,” Yuri declared loudly, eyes furrowed together making his face pinch inwards.

Victor laughed again because this was the life he’d dreamed of since he was little. It was unexpected and happy and all _his_ and not something he’d give up without a fight.

Yuuri broke their connection so he could ruffle Yuri’s head. The teenager made a loud protesting sound, hands already moving upwards as he tried swatting him away while Yuuri laughed, the sound twinkling in the air delicately.

“Victor control your stupid pig!” Yuri cried, voice leveling out in a low whine.

“We should get on the ice now,” Victor agreed with a cheery grin though not before he took the opportunity to further tangle Yuri’s blonde hair.

Victor turned around once he reached the center of the rink, hadn’t even realized Yuri hadn’t followed. Instead the boy had froze, head tilted to the side as he stared at the main doors. A man was standing there, different from the guy at the café but sent flairs of something hot and protective down Victor’s back nevertheless.

“Yuri?” Yuuri asked, eyes flickering back and forth from the teen to the stranger.

The stranger wasn’t looking at the blonde, eyes seemed fixated entirely on Victor. Praise small miracles, it seemed, but that didn’t change the fact that Yuri was standing the closest. If he wanted, the man could easily close the distance between them before anybody could sensibly realize what was happening.

“This is a closed practice,” Victor snapped at the man, reaching Yuri and jerking him on the ice and towards Yuuri, “You can’t be here.”

“Relax,” the man hummed slowly, voice giving off a low drawl as his gaze fell over Victor’s shoulder, “I’m here to speak to an old friend.”

“Yakov isn’t here,” Yuuri spoke up and Victor turned to tell him to not do that.

His hands were gripped around Yuri’s sleeve, had pulled him behind protective. Yuri looked lost, which was wrong, as his hand was raised to fist Yuuri’s sleeve.

The man’s gaze flickered between the three of them before focusing back on Victor; a slow smile crossed his features as he hummed, “Curious.”

He didn’t make any indication of leaving.

Victor hadn’t moved once he’d grabbed Yuri, remaining on the ice- a dragon protecting its horde. His knuckles gripped at the railing, holding it so tight his tendons bleached his skin white. He was glaring- knew he was, made no indication to stop- as he tried to discern why the man would be there.

Finally the man straightened up as he tipped his head towards Victor as he proclaimed, “An old friend sends his regards, Nikiforov,” before he pushed the glass door open and disappeared out into the afternoon.

“Victor?” Yuuri demanded, voice hard and pensive and when he risked a glance he saw that the younger male had tensed in a way that seemed so uncharacteristic of him.

He probably hadn’t intended it but his shoulders were curved, one hand still grasping Yuri’s arm though the teenager seemed oblivious to either of their presences eyes staring at the vacant spot the man had occupied. Yuuri had shifted his feet so he blocked most of the blonde- and Victor knew he shouldn’t but the sight sent something warm fluttering around in his stomach.

“Did you know him?” Yuri asked before Victor got a chance to reply, eyes flickering over to him and they appeared so young and frightened all of a sudden. Like a child- nothing like the reputation he tried so hard to make for himself.

Victor shook his head, saying nothing. He didn’t know what to say, had thought he could’ve lived a full life without anyone knowing a past he’d long since abandoned.

Yuuri’s dark eyes furrowed, agitated, as he prodded, “Victor, what aren’t you telling us?”

“Nothing,” _so much_ , “Don’t worry about it,” _I don’t want to hurt you_.

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuuri growled and he looked irritated, moments from snapping; Yuri was still grasping at his wrist, though, and Victor figured that was the only reason Yuuri hadn’t already.

“I’m going to get some water,” Victor deflected not even bothering to untie his skates before hurried away from the ice. His thoughts weren’t making sense. He wanted nothing more than them to make sense, to clear and show him what he was missing because he knew he was missing something.

Several laps down the hallways revealed nothing except an urge to hold Yuuri. Kiss Yuuri. Ensure himself that that was real, and that the man only knew his name because he was a fan of skating. That was it. He was overreacting. They were _all_ overreacting.

Following the pull towards his fiancé he hurried back to where the rink was. Yakov was there, barking orders at Yuri like nothing had happened. At the other coach’s side Yuuri stood as dark eyes traced the youngest skater’s movements across the ice, and Victor forced himself to breath because _it was nothing. Everything was fine._

He went up behind Yuuri, wrapping his arms around his chest and hiding covert kisses in dark hair. Yuuri didn’t do much more than shift under his grasp, watching the blonde moved in that mesmeric way of his and it was one of those few times Victor was glad he’d left for a year.

“You going to explain what happened?” Yuuri suddenly whispered, voice low and fierce and Victor knew he needed to come up with something.

“I will,” Victor promised burrowing his nose and inhaling the soft hair, “as soon as I figure it out myself.”

-:-

“I can’t keep sleeping on your lump of a couch _stupid_ Victor,” Yuri snapped for what’s felt like the millionth time since Yakov called it a day.

They were gathered in the locker room, skates locked away and bags strung over their shoulders and around their necks. Yuuri kind of wished there were leftover bagels but knew Yuri had already consumed most of them earlier in the day- _before_ the man.

Victor hadn’t stopped shaking, the faintest tremor in his fingers as he clutched at him like a lifeline. Yuuri was more than happy to oblige. Unfortunately Yuri wasn’t so willing, not that Yuuri could blame him. The teen had a life outside of them, and- as much as they’d love otherwise- he wasn’t theirs.

“Only for tonight,” Victor argued calm and sensible and the fact that he wasn’t acting like his usual cheery self would’ve been enough to clue Yuuri in that something was amiss if not for the fact that the same nauseous feeling since he realized the man had entered without any of them knowing had yet to subside.

“I _can’t_ ,” Yuri argued and he was doing that thing where he stretched his neck out to try and make himself look bigger than he actually is.

“But-” Victor started, moving to escape Yuuri’s hold so he could do that thing where he gazed down at Yuri like the child they all knew he was.

Yuri had noticed him first. The man had been closest to Yuri when they spotted him. Yuri had been present, even if most of his attention had been on the two older males. Neither bode well with letting the kid out of their sight while those thoughts still ran rampant in their thoughts.

Yuuri tightened his hold- a selfish move. He wasn’t ready to let Victor go. He wasn’t ready for Victor to _leave_ him. Victor obeyed, stilling back at his side as he continued to stare demandingly at the teenager across from them.

Yuuri almost felt bad for the youth, knew very few could escape Victor once he took upon that expression. If every cell in his being wasn’t crying out for Yuri to stop being stubborn and come home where they could protect him he might’ve stepped in on the blonde’s behalf.

Yuri shook his head as he replied firm, “No. I won’t leave my grandpa in his apartment by himself. Not with his back recently starting to act up again.”

A sour feeling churned Yuuri’s gut when he realized this wasn’t just the kid denying their affection. This wasn’t Yuri taking advantage of the moment and try to hurt either one of them. This was them being selfish and stupid and- _oh God_ \- no wonder Yuri glared so much at them.

Beneath Yuuri’s hands Victor tensed. Yuuri tightened his grip, suddenly very afraid of what Victor was about to do.

It wasn’t Victor’s thought he cared so much; it wasn’t even really his fault that he held the urge to protect anyone he allowed warm their ways into his heart, and it definitely wasn’t his fault that- somehow, despite everything that’s happened- that included Yuri Plisetsky.

To Yuuri’s surprise, though, Victor asked, “Why didn’t you tell me his back was starting to hurt him?”

Yuri blinked, apparently as shocked as Yuuri, before his face hardened into the familiar angry mask Yuuri was starting to realize was just a cover. Yuuri’s heart ached at the thought that the feeling of abandonment Victor gave the kid last year was the reason he’d been _so_ mean to them.

Yuri scoffed in the back of his throat, turning his head so he could hide his expression underneath his hair. His voice was tense and angry and wavered with a surprising sort of sorrow. He shouldn’t be sad- not about things like this- and Yuuri wanted to release Victor so he could hug the teenager.

“Why would I do that? You made it clear last year where I stood with you.”

It was wrong. The words were wrong. Victor loved Yuri but because Victor chose to follow his own happiness Yuri had become blind to that fact. Angry and resentful and Yuuri suddenly found his arms wrapped around the youth’s shoulders as he squeezed him to his chest.

“We’ll always stand by you, and you can always come to us,” Yuuri promised softly, Yuri tense and unsure underneath his hold but he wasn’t running away.

Finally- what felt like forever- Yuri’s hands grabbed his elbows and his voice wobbled with tears as he demanded, “Then why would he leave me here after everything he’s promised?”

“Because Victor had been in a bad place himself,” Yuuri explained holding onto Yuri like he was the most fragile thing he’ll ever hold- if he let go then Yuri would shatter and they’d never be able to piece him together again as he promised, “but we’re here now. Whenever you need us.”

Yuri pulled away, but he didn’t look angry. He looked small and vulnerable- like the kid Yuuri knew that he was. It reminded him of that time in the snow, when the kid had hunted him down to give him a small paper bag filled with some of the best food he’s ever tasted.

“Okay,” Yuri breathed eyes flickering back to Victor as he added inching backwards, “I need to head home. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

And- maybe- Yuri had found comfort in the fact that the man earlier paid him almost no attention. Maybe he’d convinced himself that he was safe because his attention had obviously been focused on Victor. Perhaps Yuuri should too, but something stopped him. He didn’t want a child- barely a man even in Russia’s standards- walking by himself no matter the distance.

Victor must’ve felt the same as he passed Yuuri, setting a hand against his elbow on his way past, before he offered with a faux smile and strained cheer in his voice, “Why don’t you wait for us, and we can all walk together?”

Yuri narrowed his eyes untrusting. He was one of the few people who wasn’t afraid of calling Victor out on his crap, proving there were no limits on how far the kid was willing to go just to knock Victor down. Remind him that, despite it all, he’s still only human.

But Yuri didn’t reply much more than with another scoff and nod of his head. Yuuri figured that he must’ve been wrong earlier than.

The stranger, whoever he was, had really freaked him out and Yuuri wasn’t sure any of them could say with confidence that they knew what he’d been doing there except that it’d involved Victor; Yuuri wasn’t all that thrilled at the idea of someone taking Victor from him.

-:-

The walk from the rink to Nikolai’s apartment was surprisingly cheery, and Victor couldn’t recall a time he’d felt so happy. Peaceful, almost, and when they finally arrived Yuri’s cheeks were red with merriment as he waved goodbye at them before disappearing.

Victor ignored the sinking of his gut as soon as the kid disappeared from his sight. Almost on reflex he tightened his hold around Yuuri, reassuring himself. Everything was fine. They were fine. It was okay.

“Victor?” Yuuri’s slightly concerned voice asked, and Victor blinked down at the young man he’s entrusted so much of himself to.

Despite the cold he suddenly felt warm.

He planted a soft kiss to the side of Yuuri’s temple, keeping him at his side as he murmured softly, “Are you hungry? Would you like to stop somewhere and get something to eat?”

Yuuri shook his head as he turned to trap Victor’s lips in his own. He was soft and warm and tasted vaguely of strawberries. Victor felt his stomach burst like a high school virgin receiving her first kiss before Yuuri pulled away, blinking lazily up at him. The corners of his mouth were starting to upturn in a smile.

“I’m not all that hungry,” he promised lowly, hands gripping Victor’s jacket as he pressed his head against Victor.

Victor let him, keeping his own hands to the side despite the overwhelming urge to grasp the younger male and claim him where they stood.

“Are you craving a different sort of appetite?” Victor asked bending his head to plant kisses along Yuuri’s jaw and collarbone.

Yuuri shook his head, and Victor stopped. He blinked confusedly at the other male, asking with his eyes what the matter was. Yuuri tightened his grip on him once more like he was afraid of letting go, and despite himself Victor was concerned.

“Yuuri?” Victor inquired.

“I’m fine,” Yuuri promised having picked up on most of Victor’s distress before explaining, “Why did that man know your name? Why was he looking at you so much?”

Victor’s stomach twisted into painful knots as he asked in a mere whisper, “Were you jealous?”

Yuuri choked out a laugh before whispering, “Perhaps at the time but now I feel something else. He knew your name- he’d been there for _you_. Why?”

“We shouldn’t talk about these matters out in the open,” Victor replied instead of answering, suddenly afraid of how Yuuri may react, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Yuuri followed obediently, completely silent. Victor didn’t try offering any conversation either, praying that Yuuri would’ve let it go by the time the door locked shut behind them.

He didn’t.

He turned on him, brown eyes sparkling in thought as he pointed an accusing look at him. Victor felt his spine stiffen in fear- a laughable thought. Victor Nikiforov frightened by someone physically smaller and younger than himself- his father would’ve been stuck between disappointment and amusement.

“Why was that man there?” Yuuri demanded, “What did he want?”

“I do not know,” Victor promised honestly, “but if he left on his own than perhaps nothing.”

“Perhaps nothing,” Yuuri repeated dumbly, stalling, before his face pinched together in anger and he demanded, “Is that what you think? That this was _nothing_?”

Victor stepped forward, capturing Yuuri in his arms; he stole a kiss from the younger male before he whispered, “Of course not. You and Yuri were there and I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to either of you.”

Yuuri melted in his hold but he was still stiff and reluctant as he challenged almost inaudibly, “What about us? What am I supposed to do if something happened to _you_?”

“Nothing will,” Victor vowed, “because I’d never want to hurt you in such a way. I need you to trust me though. Can you do that?”

Yuuri nodded, tilting his head back so Victor could kiss him again. Victor obliged, unsure if it had been him or Yuuri that drug them both to the floor. All he knew was that the heat returned at the sight of Yuuri underneath him, eyes glassy as they stared up at him in mere slits.

“I love you,” Victor whispered as he trailed kisses along the side of Yuuri’s neck and collarbone.

“I know,” Yuuri promised reaching up to claim Victor’s neck in his hands, “I know Victor. I know.”

And- at the moment- that had seemed like enough.

-:-

“I think you owe me a dinner.”

Victor blinked in surprise, turning his head to where Yuuri was waiting expectantly at his side. They were at the ice rink, standing by the barrier waiting for Zamboni. Victor wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but one glance at his fiancé and he knew he was stuck.

Unfortunately, the thing that came out was a very undignified, “Huh?”

“The other day you promised to take me on a date- wherever I wanted,” Yuuri clarified and it was no wonder everyone thought Victor was awful at remembering promises; people shouldn’t be so spontaneous or confusing.

“I remember that,” Victor agreed allowing a smile to cross his face, “Why the sudden excitement?”

Yuuri tightened his hold around Victor’s wrist, grasping him like he may never let him go. A ridiculous and impractical thought that brought a goofy smile to Victor’s face.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri lied when they both knew it was that rare possessive streak that flared occasionally- it was one of Victor’s favorite moments, knowing someone loved you so much that they may never let you go.

“Well wherever you want to eat,” Victor hummed with a nod, “let me know and I’ll take you.”

“Are we getting food?”

Victor blinked, saw Yuuri blink as well, before they turned their heads to see the expectant blonde staring back at them. He was clutching a grey water bottle, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and his eyes were sparkling in that rare way of his.

Victor wanted to curse the teen’s timing. He wanted to shout and protest because _who did the kid think he was? Inviting himself to Victor and Yuuri’s date._

But he didn’t because he knew the feelings were superficial just like he knew Yuuri could never deny the youth anything. It just came as a surprise when it didn’t bother him at all when Yuuri nodded with a warm smile and invited Yuri along.

It should’ve. He knew it should- was well aware that out of the two of them he was the one that craved all of the other male’s attention. Hungered for it, wanted to monopolize all of it, and he’s struck people for less.

This time had been different. _Yuri_ was different, and he couldn’t say why or when it happened or how it began and, for whatever reason, his stomach jolted in a surprise leap of joy when Yuri grinned at the both of them.

 _He’s really come out of his shell_ , Victor noted as he hugged Yuuri’s side and matched Yuri’s smile, _he’s opened up so much all because of Yuuri._

Yuuri was the same way, drawing most of his fight from whatever rivalry the two shared. It wasn’t real, though, more like two friends competing against each other and that thought was so bizarre because Victor never thought he’d see the day the two became friends.

Yuri glanced between the two of them, suddenly looking uncertain. His nose scrunched up in that thoughtful way of his and Victor wanted to reach out and never let him go. How, exactly, the bratty half-pint he remembered from so long ago managed to worm himself so ferociously into his heart he could never be certain. Victor wasn’t sure it mattered; he was as reluctant to release the teenager as he was Yuuri, except some part of him knew that he’d eventually have to let Yuri go as he wasn’t his to keep.

“You’re starting to freak me out stupid Victor,” Yuri snapped, voice and tone kinder than Victor was accustomed to.

Victor reached out, grasping the back of Yuri’s neck so he could hold him close to his chest and listen to him silently protest. Physical contact was still a foreign concept to the boy and Victor hated thinking why he was so reluctant to it.

“What else is new?” Victor breathed in his ear, hands shoving him away as Yuri glared at them.

“You’re an idiot,” Yuri accused eyes flickering over to where Yuuri was watching with that sympathetic smile of his, “An idiot who fell in love with that piggy.”

“Hey now,” Victor tutted kinder than he normally would’ve to anyone else who insulted Yuuri, “You say that now because you don’t understand. Maybe one day you to will find love.”

Yuri’s eyes flickered between them as he ground out, “Not likely.”

“Dumplings,” Yuuri interrupted, hands folding around Victor’s shoulders and it was nice knowing someone knew all your pressure points and was willing to step in when they realized all of them were suddenly being pushed.

Except Yuri knew them too, made a habit of trying to activate all of them, and it took a while before Victor realized it was because the kid wanted him to feel something towards him. Maybe that was why whenever Yuri spoke Victor didn’t feel much more than a fluttery sort of happiness warming his chest.

“Pardon, love?” Victor still asked, distracted by Yuri’s furrowed expression.

The boy glared so much, was angry at so much, yet it was in a way because of the rarity of his happiness that made moments where he smiled kindly nicer.

Yuuri’s fingers tightened around Victor’s shoulders as he clarified, “I want dumplings.”

Yuri was scowling now, arms crossed, but the pieces had clicked and Victor mentally prayed that he didn’t ask what he knew he wanted to- couldn’t decide which would’ve been worst.

And because Yuri had made it a life mission to disregard everything Victor wanted, he asked, “It’s a date, isn’t it?”

He looked so disappointed all of a sudden, face drawn and sad. Even his eyes seemed to sparkle with sudden regret that looked so wrong, and Victor’s well aware of the many mistakes he’s made in his short life but for some reason his continuous habit of letting the teenager before him down over and over again made something sour stick in the back of his throat.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yuuri chided stepping past Victor to grasp Yuri’s neck as he reassured, “It couldn’t possibly be a date if you came. That would be wildly irresponsible of us.”

Yuri didn’t exactly pull away but he was smart enough to have figured out just what he’d been transposing on. He was also stupid enough to believe that that somehow mattered to either of them.

“We’d love for you to come,” Victor reassured, and Yuri stared at him like he couldn’t bring himself to believe just that.

“Okay,” Yuri agreed nevertheless eyes hard and distrusting but Victor didn’t care because he said he would come and that was all that really mattered.

“We’ll pick you up at six,” Victor promised before the youth got the chance to suddenly back out, fingers tightening around his neck as he smiled fondly down at him before moving away.

Their break was over anyways, the Zamboni having moved off the freshly polished ice.

-:-

Nikolai was the one who answered the door, eyes flickering between the two of them in surprise. Since moving to Russia to practice Yuri somehow repeatedly ended up in the more intimate parts of their lives. Everyone saw it, some even bothered saying something about it, but neither Victor nor Yuuri had cared. They didn’t even really notice until Yakov had said something about it.

They wanted Yuri in their lives, though. They wanted him to feel welcome, and they wanted to see him smile as Victor showered him with kitten stuff animals or when Yuuri tried showing him the proper way of using chopsticks. It was strange, and Victor was still getting used to allowing so many people in his life.

“You know you don’t have to take him if you don’t want him to go,” Nikolai promised carefully like he was testing their answer.

Victor tightened the arm he had wrapped around Yuuri’s waist as Yuuri shook his head and reassured, “We’d be disappointed if he backed out now.”

Nikolai’s eyes shifted over to him and Victor nodded his agreement.

It would be disappointing if Yuri didn’t tag along now that the prospect of him tagging along had presented itself to them.

“Don’t worry so much,” Victor promised anyways because he still looked hesitant, “I’ll take good care of him.”

Nikolai snorted as he nodded his head and whispered, “Of that I have no doubt,” before the smaller figure of Yuri was suddenly there at the door staring at both of them like he was waiting for them to announce they changed their minds and would rather be alone.

“Be good Yuratchka,” Nikolai commanded and Yuri nodded before wrapping skinny arms around his shoulders and squeezing.

“I will grandpa,” he said in a voice caught between cheerful and a fondness he didn’t present to others very well, “I love you.”

Nikolai snorted as he nodded but he didn’t return the sentiment. For whichever reason the realization bugged Victor even though he knew it was probably because Yuri didn’t accept affection easily. That if Nikolai had returned the phrase it would’ve left the teenager into a blushing mess and he would’ve probably taken it out on them and ruin whatever positive mood they had.

Yuri moved away, forcing Victor to smile once more as he accepted the youth. Yuuri had already moved to strike a conversation with him, eyes smiling fondly and Victor offered one last nod to Nikolai before following them out into the night.

By six most of Russia had already begun to be blanketed by night though cars still zoomed by them, eager to reach wherever they were going. Victor hated driving in night traffic so they opted on walking, the three of them together as Victor felt warm and content and _happy_ despite the near freezing temperatures.

“Fair warning in advance this place isn’t half as good as your mother’s cooking,” Yuri warned still walking beside Yuuri having already opened up completely to the Japanese man.

Yuuri’s smile was soft and warm and so full of utter adoration it sent a jolt through Victor’s stomach. He’d been afraid at first of how the two’s relationship would develop. Now he found himself envying it, wishing he hadn’t had to sacrifice everything he was to gain the two in his life.

“I’m sure it’s just as good,” Yuuri protested kindly.

Yuri was already shaking his head as Victor wrapped his arm back around Yuuri’s waist and replied, “He’s right darling. It doesn’t even compare.”

Unfortunately Yuuri never got the chance to decide on his own.

When they reached the restaurant it was to find it completely empty. Yuri frowned as something sickening settled at the bottom of Victor’s stomach.

“Victor?” Yuuri asked the same time Yuri froze and hissed, “Something isn’t right. We should go.”

Victor just stared like an idiot because the OPEN sign was still flashing at him mockingly. Through the windows he could see most of the tables were overturned and it looked deserted. Victor was smart enough to know that looks could be deceiving, the realization striking him milliseconds after Yuuri left his hold.

“Someone could be injured inside. We can’t just leave,” Yuuri protested, the glass door not even locked.

Victor moved to follow on instinct- stopped only by a hand grasping the sleeve of his jacket. He blinked, twisting so he was staring at Yuri’s reluctant expression.

“We need to go,” Yuri repeated and he looked frightened.

Victor didn’t register that, though, because he knew something was off. He knew something dangerous was residing inside the restaurant- the restaurant in which Yuuri had suddenly disappeared into, and the thing keeping him from it was the skinny teenager before him.

“Stay out here if you must,” Victor snapped harsher than necessary, wrenching his arm free before following the path Yuuri had taken.

“Yuuri darling?” Victor called when his eyes couldn’t find his fiancé.

“Back here Victor!” Yuuri called back and there was a hitch in his voice that had Victor moving faster than he normally would have.

He found Yuuri crouched over limp form of the man Victor recognized as the cook. Red stained his side, spreading across the checkered tile. On instinct Victor reached down to pull Yuuri away, eyes locked on the cook’s body.

“Is he-?” Yuuri asked as Victor forced his head in the other direction.

“He’s dead,” Victor murmured, Yuuri nearly choking at the words.

“He wouldn’t have been if you were sooner Victor Nikiforov,” a voice murmured behind them and they spun- together- to see the man from the rink staring back at them.

He was dressed in the suit he’d been wearing earlier, gun gripped in gloved hands at his side. Dark eyes were narrowed as he leaned against the wall, and Victor wasn’t stupid. He knew he was watching him, waiting for him to show his hand.

Victor almost wished he had something to show him.

At his side Yuuri’s grip on his sleeve tightened as he demanded sounding almost impressively angry, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“That,” the man murmured gesturing towards Yuuri with his gun, “are both excellent questions. At least, as long as you’re dearly beloved has kept you in the dark.”

The eyes were back on him but Victor shifted his weight anyways, hiding Yuuri behind his frame. The thought of losing him encompassing his thoughts in a fuzzy sort of cocoon. This certainly wasn’t how he planned this night of going, almost wished Yuri hadn’t asked to come because then they wouldn’t have come here. Victor would’ve taken Yuuri to somewhere more romantic, more popular. More public.

“You can’t keep us here,” Victor gambled, every instinct inside him itching to get Yuuri as far away from this man as possible.

“True,” the man hummed with a disappointed frown, “though that wouldn’t be any fun. Besides, you’d leave before we got to the best part.”

Victor was already inching them towards the door before he finished the sentence. He said they could leave to hell with the rest of it. Nothing could keep either of them there anyways.

The door opened before they reached it, followed by familiar cursing as a man much larger than Victor stepped inside. He had a squirming Yuri in his arms, the boy scratching and clawing without much progress.

“You may go,” the man with the gun nodded as his eyes focused on Yuri, “I’m sure we can find enough fun with him,” a creepy smile revealing too much teeth spread across his features as he added almost offhandedly, “He’s a fighter, isn’t he?”

In Victor’s hold Yuuri jerked as he growled low and threateningly, “Let him go.”

It would’ve even be impressive if he wasn’t suddenly trembling. Victor didn’t want this. How did this suddenly happen? This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Well now I certainly can’t do that,” the man denied with a shake of his head, “Victor Nikiforov or Yuri Plisetsky. That’s the deal. I need at least one.”

Yuuri tensed, hunched over and held back only by Victor’s hold, as he demanded teary eyed, “Why? What have they ever done to you- either one of them?”

“Them? Nothing,” the man sighed with a shake of his, “but Yakov dearest still owes me money and I get a bit temperamental when denied that.”

“Yakov?” Yuri demanded, no longer struggling though his face was pinched up in obvious pain as his eyes flickered between everyone in the room, “Why would Yakov owe you money?”

“He miscalculated something’s worth. Thought it was worth protecting,” was all the man offered eyes remaining on Victor.

“I’ll go with you,” Victor replied because- though the realization that they weren’t here for Yuuri had unwound most of the tension in his chest- he couldn’t actually let the men take Yuri; he’d rather die.

“So chivalrous,” the man tutted and he sounded disappointed even as Yuri resumed squirming in his captor’s hold.

“Don’t do this stupid Victor,” he protested and he sounded angry but there was nothing new about that, “They’ll kill you.”

The man chuckled darkly as he nodded, “He’s right, you know. You’re the one person I don’t need alive.”

The words had barely left the man’s mouth, had barely registered in Victor’s mind before the gun was up once more. It fired, echoing around the small space. It lingered, he thinks, mingling with Yuuri’s anguished scream.

He blinked, finding himself on the ground.

The man holding Yuri dropped him- tossing him to the side like he weighed nothing- as a dark figure loomed over him. Victor blinked, furrowing his brow, because the figure looked a lot like Yuuri. His Yuuri but that was impossible because he was at his side.

The man who’d held Yuri prisoner subdued Yuuri easily, and the jolt of sudden fear surged through Victor once more as he shifted in protest. He thought he said something, the words mixing with the world around him.

The man with the gun frowned before a frightening sort of smile crossed his features and he purred, “So you can make that sort of expression.”

“ _Bastard_ ,” Victor choked out because they still hadn’t released Yuuri and he was bleeding and Yuri hadn’t moved and tonight wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.

“There’s only so long you can run from your past dear Victor,” the man offered walking away, taking Yuuri as they went.

Victor moved- to stop them, he thinks- but something stabbed his chest quickly followed by a pressing darkness and he knew no more.

-:-

Victor woke to white.

He blinked, white blurring before focusing and he realized he was staring up at a ceiling. His entire body felt numb too, which was strange considering the last thing he remembered was getting shot.

“You shouldn’t move,” a small voice suddenly murmured at his side, cold fingers reaching out to settle on his wrist.

He turned his head, surprised to see Yuri sitting at his side. He looked like how he did the last time Victor saw him except smaller, somehow. More vulnerable, the white bandage taped around his forehead hidden by his curtain of blonde.

“Yuri?” Victor asked, voice raspy and strange even to his own ears.

“He isn’t here,” Yuri informed him misunderstanding, turning his head so he wouldn’t have to look at Victor, “They took him. That’s what everyone keeps telling me anyways.”

Victor already knew that. It had been one of the first things he’d remembered upon waking, was probably why Yuri had told him to remain still though he couldn’t recall whether or not he’d moved. He hadn’t consciously, at least.

Victor reached out again, not even surprised to find a long clear tube sticking out of his wrist. Surviving a gunshot was no small feat and he supposed he should be thankful to whomever called for help. Yuuri was still gone, though, so he wasn’t feeling particularly thankful.

“Yuri,” Victor repeated, fingers clasping around soft skin as he pushed Yuri’s head so they were looking at each other.

Yuri was tense underneath his hold. His eyes were wide and watery too and he looked incredibly young all of a sudden.

 _He is young_ , a voice in Victor’s brain reminded him.

“Yuri, are you okay?” Victor inquired because Yuuri would kill him if he didn’t at least ask- not to mention that when Yuri looked afraid a bubbling rage made its way through Victor’s stomach.

“I’m fine,” Yuri reassured harshly twisting his head away once more before murmuring softly, “I wasn’t the one kidnapped by those monsters.”

No, Victor supposed, and he couldn’t decide if that would have been a better outcome.

“Victor, did you know who they were?” Yuri demanded suddenly and he looked so desperate, “Yakov won’t tell me anything, and I swear that if anything happens to him then I’ll-”

 _Protective rage_ , Victor’s brain recognized still a little slow, _curtesy of his Russian heritage._ It was nice knowing the extent of which Yuri cared, though, and it would’ve brought a smile to Victor’s face if the sight of Yuuri’s terrified expression wasn’t permeantly imprinted in his brain.

“No,” Victor interrupted because he didn’t- had been gone far too long to recognize anyone by their face alone.

Yuri blinked owlishly, silencing. He was still tense- shoulders and back straight and tight under a tension only Yuri was aware of. Victor kind of wished he didn’t care so much, wished he didn’t have to in replace of Victor who managed to get his sorry self shot.

 _Way to go Victor_ , he chided himself before he focused back on Yuri and resolved to fix the kid because he was still there to fix.

“Victor-” Yuri tried once more but Victor shook his head, signaling for the kid to shut up so he could speak.

“I don’t know who those men are,” Victor explained, “They were there to hurt Yakov, and they needed one of us to do that.”

“So why did then they take Katsudon?” Yuri asked, fists clutching at his knees with a desperation Victor knew didn’t belong.

Victor settled so he was looking back up at the ceiling, “I don’t know- to hurt _me_ I guess.”

Yuri stood up, knocking the chair to the ground; he was that tense ball of righteous fury once more, eyes narrowed and angry as he practically shouted, “That doesn’t make any sense though.”

“I’m the one Yakov was protecting by paying them off,” Victor clarified without looking at him, “When Yakov found he couldn’t they needed to find a way to hurt both of us while still opening the opportunity for them to receive their money.”

Yuri blinked because he was smarter than most people gave him credit for as he practically whispered, “A ransom.”

Victor glanced at him before back at the ceiling and sighed, “Sure.”

He idly wondered if they increased the dosage of his drugs to prevent his emotions from taking over. Some small part of him wanted to but it was like all his strength was being sapped from him inch by inch and he knew that if he lost Yuuri he may never really recover.

Fingers wrapped back around his arm, careful to not jostle his injuries or cause him any additional pain. A blonde head peaked back at him, eyes shining and hopeful and Victor wanted them to stop because somewhere the other half of Victor- the better half- was in danger.

“Don’t worry Victor,” Yuri promised as he reached over to fiddle with something and Victor’s brain was too slow for him to figure out what, “I’ll fix this.”

“Stop,” Victor protested instead, reaching out to latch onto Yuri’s arm.

It occurred to him as the boy switched back on his IV drip that it had never been anyone’s intention for him to wake up just yet. They probably wanted to keep him under as long as they could, until they had time to either explain without agitating him or bring Yuuri back to him.

Yuri was like Victor in the way that he was impatient and couldn’t just sit on the sidelines waiting for everyone else to get their heads out of their asses. That was why no one came in upon his waking up. No one appeared to check up on him or ask how he was feeling and because of that he was too slow to stop Yuri.

“Don’t worry,” Yuri repeated as Victor found himself drifting away once more, “I’ll fix this. I’ll bring him back.”

-:-

Russia was cold during the off season.

 _Russia was_ always _cold_ , a small spiteful voice in the back of Yuri’s head snapped at him as he hurried along the familiar roads to his grandfather’s apartment.

He didn’t have long before Yakov realized he was missing his cellphone- even less before they realized he wasn’t in his room. It didn’t matter, though, because everyone was just standing around waiting to ensure that him and Victor were okay like they didn’t know Victor wouldn’t be okay until they found Yuuri.

Yuri did, and Yuri was going to do what the adults seemingly couldn’t. He was going to find where they went after the restaurant and he was going to give them their money so they’d release Yuuri. Whatever happens after that was none of his business, just as long as Yuuri was okay.

He just wished he remembered to grab his coat on the way out.

He arrived in record time- amazed by just how quickly he’d move under the promise of warmth. Using the spare key under the mat he forced the door open, leaving the lights off as he made his way to his room. His laptop laid on his where he remembered last leaving it, and he’d heard stories of people selling their medals for food or to pay some sudden bill but never for a ransom.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , he reminded himself because the medals were just things. Gold was just an object, and he couldn’t bring himself to care what happened to it if the alternative was watching Victor fall into a frenzied depression of which there was no recovering from.

Finding someone willing to buy them wasn’t the problem- almost embarrassingly easy. The problem arose to suddenly having to wait, and he tried sitting and waiting but eventually his nerves got so bad he found himself pacing aimlessly around his room until- finally- Yakov’s small plastic phone buzzed.

He said nothing when he flipped it open and pressed it against his ear.

“Warehouse 26 by the docks a detached voice informed into his ear, “You have an hour before we start removing toes.”

The words casted a red sheen over Yuri’s vision as he gritted the backs of his teeth together. His hand tightened so the phone creaked under his hold, any words he wanted to say disappearing as the person hung up.

He checked the money in his account before concluding that it would have to be enough. He prayed that it was enough- didn’t have much of a plan in case it wasn’t. All he knew was that it had been too long, Yuuri had been with these people far too long and with the threat still echoing around in his ears he locked the door behind him and ran the whole way.

-:-

Someone was standing over him, trying to speak to him. The words weren’t making any sense, though. Jumbled and confusing and made his head hurt. A sound did manage to escape his lips though. He wasn’t sure what it was so he supposed it couldn’t have made much sense- not that it mattered.

Blue eyes slipped closed and Victor allowed himself to be swallowed whole.

-:-

Yuri knocked.

He hadn’t planned anything out, he realized with a slight huff as he waited impatiently. It took him almost forty minutes for him to get there and he couldn’t bare to think what he’d do if they had grown irritated and started on Yuuri early. The thought was enough to make him sick.

“It’s a child,” a voice noted behind him and he spun in time to see the hand before large fingers suddenly grasped his face and slammed him against the metal doors of the warehouse.

Yuri said something indigently, the noise lost to the flesh squeezing his face. His ears were ringing and he supposed that was why he’d missed the doors opening behind him.

“Yuri Plisetsky,” a familiar voice hummed and he was released so he could turn to see the man who’d shot Victor staring back at him with a removed expression.

“Where is he asshole?” Yuri growled from the back of his throat, hunched over and near feral as thoughts of what could’ve been happening to Yuuri flashed through his expression.

The man just leaned against the doorway as he noted, “You weren’t the one I was expecting. I do hope dear Victor didn’t die from a measly gunshot.”

“Die,” Yuri ground out, leaping forward in an attempt to claw the bastard’s eyes from his skull.

The arm caught his waist easily, pulling him back so he was just waving his arms in front of himself uselessly. The man chuckled darkly, eyes brimming with his amusement. Yuri hated him the most, wished he had thought to bring a weapon.

“Even still,” the man continued like Yuri wasn’t trying to kill him, “you are quite cute. Sturdy too, probably. Oh what fun we could have with you.”

“I brought your money.”

The man’s expression changed, darkened, as he growled in a low tone, “What is a cute little thing such as yourself doing with that much money I wonder. Is this a trick?”

“I pawned my medals,” Yuri explained suddenly afraid of what the man would do, “No one else knows I’m here.”

The man blinked, expression smoothing back out, as he asked in a gentle sort of tone, “Why would you do that? Does the Japanese man really mean that much to you?”

Yuri glanced away- an obvious answer.

The man chuckled darkly. Hands grabbed at his shoulders and when Yuri went to fight them off they struck the side of his head. He gasped, doubling over in shock, as they resumed to manhandle him into the warehouse. He almost wished he’d called someone because his knees suddenly felt weak and the ringing wasn’t stopping and his vision was starting to blur along the edges.

They stopped by a separator cutting the warehouse in half, blue eyes staring intently at Yuri like he was going to do something rash- like he was in the position of doing anything.

“The money?” he demanded instead and the hands released Yuri long enough so he could pull out his phone, logging into his account before it was snatched from him.

The man whistled- obviously impressed- before he jerked his head towards the separator and it screeched open with a terrible hissing sound. Yuri went to turn from the sound but his eyes caught the sight of what lay on the other side and his brain must’ve stopped working properly as he somehow ended up kneeling beside the prone figure.

“Yuuri?” he asked- concern making his voice wobble- as he reached out to flip him over.

He looked fine. His hair was mused a little and clothes wrinkled but he didn’t hold any injuries- not even a bruise- and Yuri remembered to breathe before he started shaking his shoulders to rouse him. He never even saw the hand coming until it was wrapped around his throat.

Yuri choked, staring down with a wide expression as realization flickered in Yuuri’s intense gaze.

“Yuri?” he asked, hand disappearing almost instantly and instead replaced with such a gentle hold, “Yuri? I’m so sorry. Can you hear me?”

Yuri coughed- throat surprisingly sore- but he nodded because he was fine. Surprised but fine.

“Come on,” he choked out instead needy hands reaching to wrench Yuuri on his feet, “We’re leaving.”

“What? How?” Yuuri demanded clinging on him with a sort of desperation Yuri wouldn’t wish on his enemies, “Is Victor here? Yuri?”

Yuri ignored the question- head still spinning as he urged them both forward with a willpower he had never been certain he’d possessed only to be stopped when the man stepped in front of them, blocking their exit. Yuri would’ve screamed at him if he thought it would’ve helped. Instead he just sank backwards, keeping as much as himself between Yuuri and the threat as he could.

“Hold on now boys,” the man tutted waving the phone in front of him like a trophy, “This is in Canadian currency. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Of course it’s Canadian,” Yuri snapped peevishly, “Someone in Canada bought them. I don’t know who, but the bank should transfer it over for you.”

The man tapped the phone to the side of his mouth in thought before he sighed and said, “Gustav.”

The man who’d been manhandling Yuri since his arrival started forward. Yuuri gripped the back of Yuri’s shirt, wrenching him backwards. Yuri stumbled, tripping and falling to the ground with a shocked noise.

Gustav had already grabbed onto Yuuri, arm wrapped around his neck in a sedating hold. Yuri figured he must’ve saw red but most of his vision blurred as his own voice echoed in his ears.

“Let him go you bastard!” he screamed, rearing back to strike Gustav.

Gustav caught him easily, shaking him. Yuri’s vision swam, black dots dancing along the edges, and he couldn’t recall a time he’d been so frightened. Vaguely he was aware of Yuuri protesting on his behalf.

“I must say,” the man purred as he approached, “You two put up quite the fight. Truly impressive for ones so young.”

“You said you’d let him go once you got your money,” Yuri growled, head wrenched back by the hand in his hair staring defiantly- if nothing else he wasn’t going to give the man the satisfaction of seeing him beg.

“Did I say that?” the man inquired with a curious expression before shrugging, “Well I’m nothing if not a man of my word. Gustav, would you be so kind?”

The hand disappeared from Yuri’s hair as he was forced forwards. He stumbled over his footing, arm catching him around his waist as he was spun around so he could see Yuuri struggling in the much larger man’s grasp as he was pulled away.

“Stop! Let me go! Yuri!” he shouted and Yuri jerked forward, trying to reach him; the arm holding him caught him easily.

“Now, now Mr. Katsuki. I’m releasing you back to the general population. What are you suddenly trying to fight it?” the man holding Yuri asked deceptively sweet, making the younger boy cringe as he ground the backs of his teeth together.

“Don’t you dare hurt him!” Yuuri snapped back, voice dropping so it was cold with his fury, “If you touch a single hair on his head I swear I’ll-”

“You’ll do nothing because you are nothing,” the man interrupted and Yuri watched in painfully slow motion how Gustav snapped Yuuri’s head back so it slammed against the wall.

There was a crunch as Yuuri fell limp, and Yuri must’ve jerked forward because he suddenly found himself being tossed back on the ground. He cried out- remembered that- before a dark object slammed into his skull and he sank into the nothingness.

-:-

Victor woke to Yakov standing over him, face drawn downwards in his usual angry scowl. For whatever reason that agitated Victor, causing him to shift on the bed.

“Don’t move,” Yakov protested but he didn’t move to stop him, “What do you remember?”

Victor didn’t reply with words- wasn’t sure he had the strength. All he remembered was the gun and Yuuri and the fact that everything had been Yakov’s fault.

His hand caught around his coach’s throat, fingers squeezing soft flesh. It was so easy and almost frighteningly satisfying. Yakov was responsible- he’d done this and Victor had lost Yuuri because of it. Unforgivable.

Yakov choked, mouth opening like he wanted to say something. No words came because Victor squeezed tighter, unrelenting. Yakov had nothing to say to him because there was nothing to say. He’d dealt his hand with the wrong type of people and no reason could ever justify that.

“He’s gone because of you,” Victor growled as he forced the older man’s face closer to his own, “They took him. They took my Yuuri.”

Yakov shook his head, hands uselessly trying to pry Victor from around his throat. Victor refused to let go, refused to back down and let the man he’d trusted with everything win.

The door opened and Chris walked in, surprising Victor enough that Yakov managed to finally break free. He took several steps back- far away from Victor’s reach- as Chris stared at everyone in the room like he was surprised, like he didn’t already know the lengths Victor was willing to go to for Yuuri.

“What I was trying to tell you, you love struck fool, is that they found Yuuri,” Yakov wheezed, massaging his throat delicately.

Victor turned his hard expression towards Chris as he demanded in a harsh tone, “Is he lying?”

Chris’s eyes still flickered between of them like he was unsure what he’d been stepping in on before focusing on Victor and he nodded before clarifying, “He was slightly dehydrated when they found him, but other than that unharmed.”

Victor felt something in his chest unwind at his friend’s words and he remembered how to breathe before he became aware that they still looked concerned about something.

“What is it?” Victor demanded.

Chris closed the distance between them, reaching out to grasp Victor’s hand. He clutched it earnestly, tight and supportive and Victor was suddenly frightened to hear what he was about to say.

“Yuri Plisetsky went missing several hours ago,” Chris explained and the weight returned crushing Victor’s chest, “We think he may have had something to do with Yuuri’s release.”

Victor clutched Chris’s hand tight enough that a wince flickered over the man’s features. He didn’t pull away- didn’t even attempt to and maybe that was why Victor had kept him around for so long. He admired that sort of strength.

“What’re you saying?” Victor ground out, chest burning as his panic built up inside of him, “What happened?”

“They don’t know,” Chris explained voice keeping his soft soothing tone like he knew Victor was about to do something reckless, “They found Yuuri not far from here, but he was unconscious and alone. They don’t think he escaped, and they can’t find the other Yuri anywhere.”

“But what does Yuuri say?” Victor demanded because surely that wasn’t right; he couldn’t gain one and lose the other regardless of which was which.

Chris shook his head again before whispering, “They’re keeping him under, waiting for his family to arrive. He can’t say anything.”

Victor shook his head because he knew that was wrong. He went to glare at Yakov, but Chris was blocking him. Chris was staring at him with eyes that informed him that he knew more than Victor had ever offered before and he probably knew along which lines his brain was leading him down.

“I need a phone,” Victor gasped reaching out to suddenly shove at Chris’s chest, “I need to call someone.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chris didn’t know who Victor called- couldn’t think of someone he’d need to talk to that wasn’t in the hospital somewhere. It also didn’t help that Victor obviously knew the number by heart when the guy didn’t even know his own phone number. Victor didn’t offer any information either, simply clicking Chris’s phone shut as he handed it back over with a frightening expression.

Victor was a happy sort of man. He smiled and laughed and made it a general rule to just make those he's around feel happy. It was what drew people around him in such thick clusters- something that just felt natural and it never occurred to Chris that he may see his friend look anything less than thoughtful.

Blue eyes were hard, skin still a milky color as he absently rubbed his wrists where he’d yanked the IVs out without flinching. Yakov had said something about that, of course, but even he looked too shocked to do anything more.

Victor had ignored him, which ironically was the closest _Victor_ thing he’s done since waking up, and it was little comfort knowing that it was still the man Chris had often stripped in front of without a second thought. He teased and poked fun at the male because he allowed it and wasn’t afraid of retaliating, and it had always been because of that Chris admired him.

“I’m going to need you to wait for me in the lobby,” Victor spoke, face flushed and hair a tangled mess as he panted and leaned against the wall for support.

“I’m not leaving you,” Chris protested shaking his head before proclaiming like it should’ve been obvious, “You were shot.”

One of Victor’s hands pressed against the spot his bandages laid beneath the thin hospital robe they’d forced him in upon arrival as he sighed, “I know, and the people that did it have Yuri.”

A chill crept down Chris’s spine at the reminder.

He’d been one of the first to arrive after Yuuri was recovered, and he’d seen the look on everyone’s faces. He _knew_ something had happened without being told, and he has never felt more helpless than at the moment.

Yuri was a child. He may not act like it- pushed himself so hard so everyone wouldn’t look down on him because of his age- and he proved that he was worthy of their respect. Even so, he still had most of his life waiting for him, and he was too young to go out like this.

A hand grasped Chris’s wrist, and he blinked back at Victor’s earnest gaze. Even after everything he was still trying to protect everyone, and _that_ realization didn’t come as a surprise. Chris had already seen how protective Victor was capable of being once he accepted someone into his life.

“Chris _please_ , I promise I won’t leave you but I can’t have you here right now,” Victor pleaded and something in his voice must triggered Chris’s own protective instinct because he found himself swallowing before agreeing with a subdued nod.

Only when he turned to leave he saw the man standing several feet away watching them with a smile that revealed to many little too many teeth. He was leaning against the wall, arms and ankles crossed as sapphire eyes flickered between the two of them. He was handsome and looked capable of breaking either one of them in half.

Chris tensed, shoulders twisting forward, as he shifted to the stance of someone protecting their young. Victor’s hand on his wrist tightened momentarily before he released it with a heavy sigh.

“How long have you been standing there Malachi?” Victor demanded, and the man huffed out a dark chuckle as his eyes practically glowed in the artificial lighting.

“Long enough to know you belong in bed with doctors and nurses looking over you,” the man- Malachi- reassured flippantly as he pushed off the wall and closed the distance with a single step.

Chris tensed, eyes hard and defiant as he stared up at the looming figure. It didn’t take a detective to figure out this had been the person Victor had called, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat. If Victor was the prize everyone was fighting so violently for then Chris wasn’t about to just give him away without a fight.

Victor didn’t look frightened as he shook his head with a soft sigh and replied, “If Yuri is still aware then you’ll only freak him out further, and I don’t like the idea of being responsible for any more trauma.”

Malachi scrunched his expression at the words before he reasoned, “You’re eyes are different than they usually are. You don’t think that’ll freak him out in the slightest?”

“My eyes,” Victor protested finally moving around Chris so he could square his shoulders and glare unflinchingly, “are not the most pressing matter here. I didn’t call you to waste time.”

“No. You called me so you can run off and do something stupid,” Malachi argued before his face saddened as he thought of something and he added, “I’m tired of burying family Victor.”

“Whoa. Wait,” Chris protested as he found his voice and stepped forward to insert himself between them once more _just in case_ , “You two are related.”

Malachi blinked looking almost offended as he scoffed and demanded, “You mean the familial resemblance isn’t obvious?”

“Chris meet my oldest cousin Malachi,” Victor introduced with a little more sympathy, blinking at him with regretful eyes- like he had been dreading the day he had to introduce anyone to this man.

 _No wonder_ , Chris thought with a touch of spite, _I’d be cautious too._

“Are you the reason Yakov was paying those men off?” Chris demanded not bothering to keep the accusatory tone from his voice because the fact that Victor was born into the mafia was too much for him to think about at that moment.

Malachi’s face surprisingly darkened at the question as he ground out in a low tone, “I’d have those men executed on the spot for what they were threatening.”

The protective note in his voice was enough to melt the remaining tension from Chris as he allowed his shoulders to slump and he sucked in a deep breath. Victor was staring back at Malachi with a narrowed expression, and Chris realized no one had bothered telling him why Yakov was paying off the mob.

“What was that exactly?” Victor ventured and he spent his whole life being protective of everyone around him that he truly was oblivious to others returning the favor.

“Victor-” Chris started in protest, voice low and kind as he silently urged the man to not pick that fight just yet.

Malachi held no such qualms as he stated bluntly, “They were going to out you as one of us. It would’ve ruined your career.”

“My career?” Victor demanded and he sounded angry all of a sudden stepping forward in a way that had Chris careening back in fear; Malachi didn’t even flinch, wore that smug expression others did whenever Yuri threatened them, as Victor continued, “You never stopped to think that between my career and-”

“Your loved ones would’ve been affected if your career took that plummet,” Malachi interrupted and Victor was terrifying but something about Malachi was predatory and Chris realized why Victor had told him to wait somewhere else.

Victor huffed, puffing himself out like he was actually offended. The fact that Malachi was so calm- so levelheaded- in dealing with this particular Victor only unnerved Chris more. He was missing something- he knew he was- and suddenly wished they had the time so he could inquire about Victor’s childhood.

Before Victor got a chance to reply Malachi smiled snidely before stating, “Your lover woke up shortly after I arrived.”

A chill raced down Chris’s spine at the words. This man- this terrifying shark of a person- had been in Yuuri’s room. He had been where he would’ve been most vulnerable and easiest to take out, and something about that fact unnerved Chris.

Victor must’ve felt the same as his eyes narrowed to slits and he demanded in a cold tone, “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing cousin dearest,” Malachi reassured without much conviction as his eyes twinkled sinisterly, “but the first thing he said was your name so I suggest popping on over there.”

Victor’s spine seemed to quiver as his body fought itself and the next time it spoke it practically came out in a whine, “I need names first. I need to know who has Yuri.”

Malachi stared a moment longer before giving his head a solemn shake as he hummed lowly in the back of his throat, “Even you can make those types of expressions. How so very ordinary of you,” but he relinquished a folder he pulled from nowhere so Chris figured Victor had won that argument.

“Come on Chris,” Victor commanded after skimming over the folder’s contents, “I need to see Yuuri before we go.”

-:-

Someone was slapping him, and it hurt. Pins and needles tingled along his flesh, stretching over his cheekbone and down to his collar like a bad virus and that was the sensation Yuri finally woke to. The face of a man- the man that’s done nothing but horrible things- swam into his vision.

Yuri went to pull away- surprised to find his arms were bent backwards over a bar hovering several inches over his head before his wrists were bound together behind his head. His legs weren’t faring much better, spread and bent over another bar where they must’ve bound his ankles.

A hand caught his face, squeezing his cheeks as a smile that’s always gave Yuri the impression of two different things beamed back at him. Yuri didn’t like the touch- didn’t approve of it- but all that escaped was a croaked moan.

“You’re a pretty one that’s for sure,” the man informed him with a noise of approval, “The other one was too but not quite like you, huh?”

The mention of Yuuri in that context caused Yuri’s stomach to lurch as he jerked forward. He didn’t get anywhere so he followed through the action by spitting in the man’s face as he narrowed his eyes angrily.

Yakov was going to kill him for getting himself in this situation, and he’d be surprised if his grandpa ever let him out of the house again. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to look at Victor in the eyes, either, knowing he’d put himself in this type of situation just because he’d been so desperate to help the other Yuuri.

 _I’m sorry Victor_ , he thought even though it felt like a betrayal to still think of the older man by name, _I swear it’s not like that. I’d never try to steal Yuuri away from you._

He’d just wanted to help. He’d just wanted to rescue Yuuri on his own, prove that he was worthy of the older man’s affection and everything that happened afterwards was so screwed he just wanted to die- was probably going to die.

The hand returned, thumb stroking his cheekbone with a tenderness that didn’t belong to someone so cruel, as the voice murmured lowly, “The Japanese man must really mean something to you, huh? Tell me kid- do you love him?”

“No,” Yuri denied too quick, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he swallowed the urge to cry.

He wasn’t lying. He didn’t like Yuuri in that particular way, but he did like him- had probably liked him before Victor bothered learning his name. Victor still beat him to it though- beat him at everything and Yuri never had much power so he had to accept the inevitable and move on. This time he figured would be different- he’d prove that he’s worthy to lean on as well.

“I see,” the man scoffed even though he didn’t- couldn’t, really.

He did step away, which Yuri appreciated. His expression had grown cold and distant as he stared at him with such disinterest Yuri had to fight back another shiver- something that didn’t help the fact that he was freezing.

“Where’s my jacket?” he demanded not recognizing the defeated voice as his own as he hid as much as he could behind his arm.

The man tilted his head to the side, eyes almost lifeless as they stared at him. Yuri stared back trying not to show how afraid he truly was- and he was afraid. More so than he has been in a long time.

“Gustav thought it smelt like you,” the man explained, “Isn’t that right Gustav?”

The large brute of a man materialized- stepping out of the shadows as they melted back away like water. In his hand he was gripping the hood of Yuri’s jacket- dwarfing it in his large palm- and Yuri shivered again. It was one of those few times he was aware by how small and fragile he really was.

“Where’s Yuuri?” he asked instead even as Gustav stepped up to him, dark eyes boring down at him like he was contemplating if he wanted to snap his neck before or after whatever they had planned.

“I suspect they have already found him by now,” the man noted dully, “so I’d say the hospital. I am- after all- a man of my word.”

Yuri felt something lessen in his chest at the acknowledgement. He was happy that Yuuri got out- that everything he’d done up until that point wasn’t a total waste- not to mention more people liked Yuuri. He’d receive a warmer reception than Yuri could ever hope for.

“You, I’m afraid, won’t be so lucky. Gustav, will you be so kind?”

Before Yuri got a chance to process the words fully the large hand grasped the back of his head, yanking it back by his roots until he could no longer breathe- choking out whatever pained sound could escape from Yuri’s lips. His eyes widened and he tried struggling but Gustav just shook him like a dog and he stilled.

“You see my boy,” the man continued as he circled around the chair so that he was directly behind Yuri’s head, “There’s something I still need from you first.”

Something thin and smooth wrapped itself around his face suddenly, Gustav’s hand disappearing with it. Yuri gasped, lungs heaving for oxygen, and was surprised when he found that he couldn’t. His head swam, black dots oozing into the sides of his vision.

The plastic disappeared and Yuri heaved heavily between his coughing, limbs trying to fold in on themselves and was disappointed when they couldn’t. Gustav wedged an oxygen mask over his nose and lips watching with passive eyes as he seemed to wait for something to flicker back between them.

Several minutes later the mask disappeared, replaced by the plastic and Yuri lasted only three more times before passing out.

-:-

Yuuri was awake when Victor entered his room with a firm command for Chris to wait outside. He hadn’t wanted his friend to meet his cousin- aware at just how volatile Malachi’s temper was capable of being. Malachi had seemed disinterested in him, though, and Victor supposed he should be thankful for that.

When his chest still ached from getting shot, and his fiancé in the hospital because he’d been kidnapped and someone who was practically Victor’s little brother was being subjected to who-knows-what Victor couldn’t find it in himself to feel particularly thankful.

Upon seeing Yuuri- _his_ Yuuri- alive and well and, most importantly, _safe_ Victor couldn’t stop the broad smile from crossing his features. He loved this man- more than he ever thought possible when he’d still been young and foolish- and it felt good whenever they were together.

Wide brown eyes fixated on him- round and traumatized- as something softened in his features and he demanded, “Victor? What happened? No one will tell me anything? Where’s Yurio?”

“Shh,” Victor soothed closing the distance between them easily and reaching out to smooth dark strands back against his forehead, “You’re alright now love, but I’m going to need you to relax. Can you do that for me?”

Yuuri stilled under his touch but his voice still wavered as he asked, “Victor, the last thing I remember is them grabbing Yurio. Where is he? Is he alright?”

The words- the reminder- hurt, burrowing themselves like a knife further and further in Victor’s heart. It made him feel sick, and he hated that Yakov was too much of a coward to explain how Yuri sacrificed himself for Yuuri.

“We don’t know yet,” Victor answered honestly- there wasn’t a point in lying- before he added, “but there’s hope. They have a good lead from an anonymous source.”

Yuuri stared at him, the words running through his head as he seemed to go over them. He must’ve picked up on the one altered fact Victor used. Victor wasn’t really surprised- had already known that Yuuri knew him better than he knew himself most days. He just wished he didn’t feel the need to say it.

Yuuri’s eyes hardened and his fingers reached up to circle around his wrist. It was a tight grip- one he’s used on him plenty of times before- and it had always been used to hold him back in the past. This time was different. There was a different sort of strength this time.

“Bring him back Victor,” Yuuri commanded voice hard and brittle as his eyes burned amongst all the white, “Whatever you have to do, bring him home.”

Victor swallowed- mouth and throat suddenly dry- but he nodded all the same. He didn’t have to be told that, had already worked through most of what flimsy plan he was going with, but hearing Yuuri say it with such ruthless conviction was startling.

Yuuri released him, face still set in a hard mask as his eyes promised to be there for him when he returned home. Victor nodded again, wasn’t really sure why, before he turned to leave with something burning up through his throat and stomach.

Those people had entered their lives because of him- had taken first Victor’s fiancé and then Victor’s friend- because of him, because of his family. A family he hasn't talked to since he was thirteen and they visited him during one of his competitions.

He created a new family since then and he wasn’t going to just sit idly by as someone tried to take that from him- not without a fight.

Chris shoved a bag of clothes at him as soon as Yuuri’s door clicked shut behind him. Victor blinked in surprise before offering his friend a kind smile, touched by the thoughtful gesture. He’d been so caught up in everything that’s happened he hadn’t even noticed he’d been wandering around in nothing but a hospital gown.

“You have five minutes,” Chris informed him as he accepted the folder Victor thrust at him, “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

Victor nodded in understanding. It only took him three minutes- his movements hurried- before he found Chris waiting by the entrance in a sleek black car. No one else was around, and Victor wondered how Chris had managed that before deciding he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. He’d just be sure to make it up to the man later.

His door clang shut behind him as he snapped on the seatbelt. Chris was staring at him, eyes wide with uncertainty. Victor figured this was probably a first for him- seeing Victor act so frighteningly cold. It was a first for Victor too, having always been aware of that side of him but never found a reason to tangle with it.

He wasn’t a callous person by nature. He’d always figured that was why Malachi found him an out of the family business- pushed and threatened so Victor could have a life outside of all the killing and blackmail. For that Victor’s always been grateful to him as he continued to live as something much more jovial.

Now, with Yuuri in the hospital and Yuri still missing, Victor just felt cold with an anger that burned like Greek fire. It didn’t make sense, was as new as it was foreign, but Victor didn’t care. Relished in the realization that he was capable of being someone like this for the ones he loved, and he was going to allow his newfound rage fuel him until they had Yuri back.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Victor demanded as he turned an icy stare at the man beside him; it only went to show what type of man Chris was when he didn’t waver in the slightest.

He nodded, face set in hard lines of determination and Victor didn’t speak again as he started the car and moved along the icy Russian roads.

-:-

Yuri woke to the man staring at him, face drawn in a curious expression. His hands sat on either side of Yuri’s waist so their noses were practically touched. On instinct Yuri jerked- was suddenly caught by his bounds- and went to scream only to find the sound muffled by the gag wedged between teeth and skin.

“Oh good,” the man announced in his face, “You’re awake.”

Yuri glared since he couldn’t turn away- refused to raise to the bait and act like the frightened victim he undoubtedly was. It only caused a snake grin to split across the man’s face, and Yuri had never wanted to knee someone in the balls so bad in his life. Only his legs were as immovable as the rest of him.

The man continued to stare for a long moment more before he sighed, moving back. His entire body was practically vibrating in his excitement causing something to drop in Yuri’s stomach.

“I was concerned for a while there,” the man spoke oblivious to Yuri’s frightened expression, “That we over did it and managed to suffocate you, but you’re a fighter aren’t you? Eyes made of steel, a rare find your age let me tell you.”

Yuri swallowed Otabek’s kind face flashing through his mind as the older boy’s words echoed in his ears: _eyes of a soldier_.

“But you were unconscious longer than I wished you'd be,” he continued like that was somehow Yuri’s fault, “so we’re just going to have to surpass all that dull endurance testing. If you’re as strong as I suspect you to be then you should be fine. A little disoriented later but it’s not like you’ve got anywhere to be.”

He laughed- a crude sound like a nail running along glass- and Yuri made a muffled sound. Hands reached out behind him, jerking the chair he was sitting in so he was lying on his back. His legs were stuck in the air, bent at the knees as the man came to stand between them with a lazy smile spread over his features.

Yuri made another muffled sound as the hands at his head continued to work. Something cold and sticky was smeared over his temples, his hair pulled back so it dangled behind him. Fear closed itself around his heart as he was forced to stare up at his torturer’s face.

“So pretty like this,” he noted at Yuri’s uneasy expression fingers trailing over his pant clad calves and thigh, “Whoever takes you the first time is a lucky man.”

The words acted as a distraction as two probes were suddenly nestled against his skin, the sticky substance serving the only barrier between it and his skin- his brain. Yuri choked in realization, tried to thrash around in blind panic but found he couldn’t move.

“Oh don’t look so terrified,” the man chided moving so he was by Yuri’s head, fingers grabbing his chin and digging into his flesh, “Do you even know anything about electrotherapy? It’s used for thousands of people every day- a true medical masterpiece.”

Something clattered to the side, causing another whimper to escape past the gag. This wasn’t real- things like this didn’t really happen to people. It wasn’t real.

The soft pads of the man’s fingers ghosted themselves over his flesh as the man continued in a wondrous tone, “I always yearned to be a doctor, but never made it to medical school. Was too violent, they said, held too much bloodlust to do much good for others.”

“Ready,” an unfamiliar voice informed, and the hand disappeared as the man took a step back.

The door across the room was thrown open with a loud clattering sound. Yuri flinched- muscles tensing before relaxing in his panic. This was real. It was happening, and he was trapped and they were going to _electrocute_ him.

“Boss we’ve been found,” a nervous voice explained, “Kill the hostage and let’s go.”

The man’s dark eyes narrowed as he demanded angrily, “How many?”

“Two, sir.”

The man sucked in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, before growling out, “Then take your guns and go kill them.”

“But sir, one of them is Victor Nikiforov,” the voice protested and Yuri felt his stomach lurch at the name.

Victor couldn’t be here. They’d kill him, and Yuri has said a lot of rude things to the older male in the past but he’d never wanted him dead. The thought sent something acidic up his throat. The man must’ve noticed as he was staring down at him with a dark expression once more.

“Victor is still just a man,” he replied offhandedly, “Go deal with him.”

Yuri shook his head, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes because- please, no. Not Victor. They can’t take Victor away from him.

“Yes sir.”

The door slammed shut with the words- the finality of the whole thing echoing around in the silence. Yuri felt sick, wanted to throw up but knew he couldn’t.

“People are such silly things,” the man noted as he moved back by his head as he stroked his cheek, “Doing such foolish things because of their emotions. _Sentiment_ is a very self-destructing thing” the hand disappeared and Yuri thought he remembered the man commanding someone to the side to start the machine.

Then his vision blurred with the light- trapped scream echoing around in his ears- as his body withered and arched. His head snapped backwards, throat quivering and exposed, as blurry eyes focused on the head standing over him.

He could’ve sworn the man was smiling.

-:-

“Maiza Shelby,” Victor suddenly said when Chris parked the car several yards away from where the files said the gang terrorizing Victor was holed up inside.

Chris blinked in surprise, bending his head so he could regard Victor with an odd expression.

Victor didn’t even seem to notice. His eyes and face were set in that odd way of his, and it wasn’t that Chris had never seen the man serious before. Competitions and coaching having proved enough to swap the usual heartfelt smile or glowing eyes into a mask of beautiful indifference.

This was different. This Victor looked pissed, more so than Chris ever thought the man capable of before and Chris couldn’t really blame him- having felt the roaring anger blow static in his ears since hearing of the attack at the restaurant- but Chris knew his limitations. He didn’t think two men would be enough to take down who knew how many trained mafia men, but one glance at Victor and a small part of him was convinced Victor could do it all singlehandedly.

“That’s the boss’s name,” Victor continued without looking at Chris- without having to hear Chris voice his confusion, “and I remember the turf war my father had with the Shelbys. They lost, of course, but by then Malachi had already bought me an apartment on the other side of the city under a different name.”

“So this is what? Revenge?” Chris demanded incredulous- surprised by just how petty that sounded coming from his lips.

Surely not. Surely they wouldn’t have shot Victor, kidnapped Yuuri for ransom only to take the other Yuri as collateral once he paid them off- a fact Chris found increasingly more suspicious as the day played itself out.

“All anyone ever does nowadays is fueled by vengeance,” Victor hummed in what was probably agreement, “I just never expected to be forced back into this world,” because taking both Yuris had been a declaration of war and Victor couldn’t turn away while one of them were still in these people’s hands.

Chris glanced back at the building, and he wanted to ask what the plan was. They left Yuuri back at the hospital, Phichit having arrived shortly after they left and from what Chris understood Otabek and JJ had jumped on the first available flight to St Petersburg as well.

A hand smacking against the windshield stole whatever words Chris wanted to say- any questions he wanted to ask. He turned in alarm only vaguely aware that Victor’s presence beside him was gone and that someone was pointing a gun at him on the other side of the glass.

“Excuse me sir!” Victor called rounding the car fearlessly, “I think me and my companion are a little lost.”

“Doubt it Victor Nikiforov,” the man purred, the gun shifting to Victor forcing him to freeze by the car’s hood, “I’d say you’re exactly where you belong.”

Seeing the gun on his friend, seeing the tight frown settle along the edges of his friend, broke something inside of Chris. Without much consideration or thought he shoved the car door open and years he’s spent cultivating his strength on the ice was enough to topple the surprised man over.

Victor was on him almost instantly, heel of his shoe connecting with the side of the man’s head as he secured the gun in his waistband. When he turned back to look at Chris he barely looked fazed, dangerous glint long since settling in his eyes and Chris wondered if the old Victor was ever going to return.

“Stay close to me,” Victor commanded before melting into the shadows leaving Chris scrambling to catch up.

He followed, relieved when Victor didn’t immediately opt to shooting anyone. They only bumped into one other guy, though, and some part of Chris found that odd.

The moment they stepped into the room with an unfamiliar man standing beside a large black box propped on top of a silver cart, he understood why. Victor’s breath caught- blue eyes cultivated on Yuri bound to a chair on his back- and that was the only warning they got.

The man went down almost disappointingly easy. He couldn’t have known Victor was armed, that Victor had stolen the gun from the lackey they sent to kill them at the car.

Yuri, who looked pale and small and suddenly so vulnerable, flinched at the sound. A low moaning noise escaped from his lips, and Victor was already closing the distance in a sprint. Chris wasn’t far behind, watched in sick awe as Victor ripped two metal probes attached to either of the kid’s temples before stroking pale blond hair back.

“Yuri?” Victor asked in a low whisper that seemed so gentle compared to how Victor has been acting since waking up in the hospital as Chris undid the gag and freed the kid’s arms, “Yura? Can you hear me?”

Hazy eyes blinked open immediately settling on Victor, who was bent over the kid’s face and he looked confused as he asked voice hoarse from screaming, “ _Vic_ -tor?”

“Yeah. It’s me,” Victor reassured voice not matching his face as he helped unfold Yuri from his prison, “I’m going to get you out of here. Okay? Do you understand?”

His hand was settled on the small of the kid’s spine, thumb massaging it encouragingly. Chris watched, suddenly out of place, as Yuri continued to sway and nod but it was obvious he wasn’t walking anywhere anytime soon because they shot his brain full of electricity.

“Chris is going to take you to the car,” Victor continued pressing their foreheads together before he moved away, “I’m going to clear you two a path.”

Yuri’s hand caught the sleeve of Victor’s coat before he could disappear completely; Yuri had his head bowed, though, and all that came out was a subdued, “Don’t die,” before he released Victor.

Victor smiled- a genuine smile- as he hummed his agreement, glanced at Chris one more time with that same frightening expression, before he disappeared out of the room. Almost immediately gunshots rang around them.

“Yuri?” Chris asked replacing the spot Victor once occupied, “It’s alright. You’re safe now.”

“I never hated you,” Yuri informed him instead large teary eyes focusing up on him, “I know people think I did, but that’s only because you were competition. I never- I _didn’t_ -”

“It’s alright,” Chris reassured brushing sweaty bangs, “I never hated you either. I’m going to pick you up now, though. Is that alright?”

Yuri nodded and Chris gathered him in his arms. He was surprisingly light and it wasn’t a wonder the boy was all fire and spite all the time. It would be so easy to subdue him- force him into something he didn’t want to do- and a sudden surge of protectiveness caught in the back of Chris’s throat.

Yuri didn’t notice, mostly limp limbs and dead weight now, as he circled skinny arms around Chris’s neck and clung like a needy child. He burrowed his head against Chris’s chest and it seemed so trusting and left him so vulnerable, Chris’s hands tightened their grip.

“He’s cute isn’t he?” a voice that sounded very much not like Victor asked and Chris tensed.

When he turned it was to see the man from the file smiling back. He was leaning against the door Victor had stormed out of several minutes prior. Dark eyes flickered between Chris’s face to the quivering bundle he had pressed against his chest.

“Move,” Chris snarled not in the mood to play any sort of games- the fact that Yuri needed immediate medical attention making him braver than he knew he was.

“You going to make me?” Maiza demanded in a lazy purr, “You know there’s nothing about you that frightens me, right?”

Chris set Yuri back on the chair, whispering encouraging words as he pried the youth from around his neck before he turned to face the man who’d shot one of Chris’s friends and continued to torture a child because he could- _wanted_ to.

“Oh. Big man on deck,” Maiza mocked pushing away from the wall, “You think you can take me pretty boy?”

“You hurt my friends,” Chris shrugged like it was obvious, “I’m not letting you get away with that.”

Maiza just smirked before waving at him goadingly, and Chris knew he was being baited but he didn’t care. This man had hurt them all so much- would continue to hurt them if someone didn’t stop him and Chris wasn’t opposed to the idea like he knew he should be.

He charged.

Maiza dodged easily, palm catching his shoulder blades so he went down with a loud grunt. The toe of a boot rammed into his side before again and again and again. Chris was powerless to not do much more than to lash out blindly and luck brought his foot against Maiza’s knee.

Maiza howled as Chris followed through with a shoulder in the man’s stomach. His back struck the ground, eyes burning in sudden rage. Chris backpedaled quickly, barely managing to avoid the swinging knife.

“I’m going to carve my name in your pretty little face,” Maiza growled low and anger and dangerous as Chris backed away, “Then I’m going to slice your throat and make Victor drink it and then I’m going to the hospital and make Victor’s fiancé mine as I make him watch. You hear me? I’ll show you what happens when you mess with a Shelby.”

Chris’s spine tingled at the threat, was suddenly aware by just how dangerous this man could be and he managed to make him angry. His back thumped against the wall and he sucked in a deep breath when he realized he managed to get himself cornered as well.

 _I’m sorry Victor_ , he thought in sudden failure.

A gun rang, echoing around the large space.

Maiza gasped in shock, blood flowering across his shirt, before he tipped over and collapsed. Behind him Yuri was standing over the other man’s body gun clasped in his small hands. He appeared to be quivering, eyes cold and vacant and teary, and Chris realized he’d never understand Russians.

“Yuri?” he asked closing the distance and wrenching the gun from him, “Yuri, can you hear me?”

“I’m sorry,” Yuri begged allowing himself to be swallowed by Chris’s arms, “He was going to kill you. He was going to do all those horrible things to Victor and Yuuri and I _couldn’t_ -”

“It’s alright,” Chris promised gathering the suddenly limp youth in his arms, “It’s alright. I’m here. He won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

Yuri was still choking on his tears, silent and still except for the slight quiver in his shoulders. It was the sound of a broken man- of someone who’s lost all hope and is just waiting on the inevitable. It broke Chris’s heart.

They couldn’t stay there, of course, and he had no idea where Victor was or if it’s even worth seeking him out. Yuri obviously needed medical attention, his temples already starting to bruise from the electric shock they’d forced on him. He supposed it was a miracle he’d managed to hold steady long enough to fire the gun.

Now he was shattering and Chris had no idea how to fix this.

No one stopped him on the way to the car. He didn’t catch any signs of Victor either, was almost worried that he was off bathing in the blood of his adversaries. That thought just seemed wrong though. Victor wasn’t cruel or evil, he just loved those he did and wanted them to be happy. Chris could relate in that regard.

They made it all the way to the car when a dark figure suddenly loomed over them. Without much thought, Chris hunched himself over Yuri in a protective cocoon silently begging for the person to spare the kid from anymore pain.

The figure opened the door to the backseat, worried blue eyes peering back at them.

“Chris?” Victor demanded and embarrassment flushed Chris’s face as he released his hold on Yuri.

Victor took the burden willingly- almost eager- as he cooed soft words in Russian in the top of Yuri’s pale head. Chris felt like he was intruding, which he then thought was ridiculous because Victor was very open about his affection. It was like he wanted everyone to know who he did and didn’t care about.

“He needs a hospital,” Chris whispered and Victor swallowed and nodded as he gently settled the kid in the backseat.

“He’ll be fine,” Chris reassured when Victor finally unfolded himself from the youth, “He’s strong.”

Victor just nodded like he wished he could believe it.

-:-

The lobby of the hospital was a mess.

Chris winced upon arrival, Victor standing tall beside him with Yuri’s small form dwarfed in his hold. Victor had wrapped him in his jacket, face creased with his concern. Chris was worried too, but he didn’t think it could compare to anything Victor was currently feeling.

The boy’s grandfather saw them first, and Chris was aware of the man’s terrible back and stoic personality but it was like none of that existed in that moment. As soon as his eyes caught the glimpse of the pale hair and even paler skin he was sprinting over to them speaking in a language Chris didn’t know as his hands fluttered over his grandson’s limp form like panicked bird’s wings.

“Vitya!” Yakov shouted next and he sounded angry but he looked relieved so Chris couldn’t really decide what he was feeling.

Then, as Victor finally managed to get a doctor to take Yuri from him, everyone else just kind of appeared.

“Victor,” JJ spoke above the cacophony of voices and questions, “Victor, I need to speak with you.”

Victor was pale, though, his skin looking a little waxy and it was only because Chris was standing so close to his friend that he even managed to catch him on his way down. Somewhere to the side Yakov started cursing.

“Fool idiot got shot,” Yakov reminded them all even as the nurse had to bring out another stretcher they could lay Victor on, “and now he’s going to get himself killed in the process.”

When Chris looked at Yakov, however, it wasn’t anger sitting over his features. He looked concerned, and Chris reminded himself that Yakov had been paying off a mafia to leave Victor alone. It obviously didn’t work for long, and Victor was more than capable of taking care of himself, but the gesture was still sweet.

“Shut up,” JJ snapped- pale and green- as his eyes followed where Victor disappeared too, “He won’t die. Neither one of them. They just _can’t_.”

“Leroy?” Chris inquired, demanding and curious in a single word.

JJ froze, mouth open like all words suddenly failed him. Chris just continued to stare at him, waiting patiently. He just found out one of his best friends was the cousin of a mafia warlord, and yet JJ’s presence was perplexing him.

“He bought Yuri’s medals off the internet,” Otabek explained with a furrowed brow and mouth set in a hard line, “That’s how Yuri paid for Yuuri’s release.”

Chris allowed the words to wash over him, to allow himself to take them in to their fullest.

“So why are you here?” he demanded and it sounded harsh but he had seen the way Yuri looked in that room, had caught his friend after he collapsed because he’d just been shot.

JJ’s eyes flickered with his nervousness before he forced himself to settle on Chris as he explained with a confidence Chris didn’t think he felt, “I came to tell him to not worry about the medals or paying me back. That’s not how I plan on winning.”

Chris nodded his approval, thankful at the very least that the kid didn’t lose that.

“How’s Yuuri doing?” Chris asked Phichit, who looked uncertain and worried and Chris supposed that everything that’s happened has come to shock to all of them.

“He’s fine,” Phichit offered, voice small and tight with his anxiety, “He’s just worried.”

“He has great reason to be,” Chris promised as he patted the younger male on his way past.

The halls all looked identical, like every other hospital Chris has ever been in. Something about that added to the depression of the sterile white walls and checkered floors. Harsh light beamed down on the nurses and doctors moving about, checking on patients and their loved ones.

He found Yuuri’s room without getting lost, an impressive feat he thought, and was surprised to see the other male awake.

“Chris,” Yuuri greeted sitting up in his chair wide eyes ad expectant and worried, “You’re back? How is everyone? Are they alright?”

Chris closed the distance between them, gently pressing the dark haired male back against his bed. Yuuri was surprisingly compliant and Chris supposed that probably had to do with the fact that it was Chris and he didn’t look devastated. Victor and Yuri were here in the ER somewhere getting treated and could possibly still die and Chris didn’t yet look devastated.

“They’re alive,” Chris reassured feeling awkward and out of place but he needed to do this since he was the only one that could, “They tortured Yuri pretty good, and Victor reopened his wound so we haven’t heard from either of them in a while but they’re alive. _Focus_ on that, okay?”

Yuuri’s eyes were wide and teary but he nodded so obviously trying to be strong. Chris could appreciate that- had always appreciated that.

“The men?” Yuuri asked and something in Chris’s face must have given it away as he quickly glanced away and murmured, “Oh.”

“They won’t hurt you anymore,” Chris reassured anyways, “I can promise you that.”

The door opened, Victor’s cousin stepping inside.

Chris tensed, rising so he could act as a barrier between them. Yuuri blinked confusedly and Chris realized the man wasn’t wearing a doctor’s uniform. He wasn’t _pretending_ to be anything to get close to them. Something about that unnerved Chris more than the latter.

“So you’re my cousin’s fiancé?” Malachi asked with a friendly smile and wave as he stepped away from the door but not in a way to close any distance between them.

“Victor is your cousin?” Yuuri inquired softly, voice husky with wonder and something akin to amazement.

Malachi nodded, smile soft and genuine and Chris wasn’t sure Victor wouldn’t punch him if he was there. After everything that’s happened tonight, Chris still might.

“What do you want?” Chris demanded in the place of Victor, straightening his spine and trying to emit a more dangerous aura than he was capable of.

Malachi raised his hands in a placating gesture as he promised, “I just came to talk. I think it’s about time I filled you in on our family’s greatest secret.”

“Victor was born into the mob,” Yuuri filled in untrusting, “He never told me, but he was.”

“He was,” Malachi confirmed with a simple nod dropping his hands so they could fiddle somewhere at his sides as he continued, “but at the time you knew him he was no longer a part of it. He never really was, even if his stubborn old man couldn’t see that.”

Chris shook his head because- mafias don’t work that way- before he growled, “Do you have a point or are you just wasting time?”

Malachi chuckled- and though it was cheerful it still sounded dark- before he explained eyes focused on Yuuri, “I’m here because I need you to understand something about our Victor. I don’t want tonight to change anything.”

“How?” Yuuri demanded voice high and desperate and it was the first time that Chris considered the thought of their relationship changing over this, “He kept this from me. He lied to me.”

Malachi was already shaking his head in denial before reassuring, “He didn’t lie. Blood doesn’t always mean commitment, though most of the time it does. Victor’s different. Victor got out and if he wanted to stay that way he couldn’t exactly bring it up.”

“They found him though,” Chris protested with narrowed eyes, “They found him, and they used his loved ones to hurt him.”

Malachi shrugged as he murmured, “We all have weaknesses. You lot are Victor’s and Victor is mine. Regardless of what you may all like to believe this wasn’t an attack against Victor- they could care less about him. This was a proof of their power to me, trying to get me to bend to their little game.”

His voice and face darkened as he spoke, sending chills down Chris’s spine. It was like that time in the car, Victor silent and brooding as he prepared himself for what needed to happen, only this time it was worst. This was a man who’d kill all of them if he thought they were poison to Victor. This was a man who held no qualms burning down the hospital if it got him what he wanted.

He was truly terrifying and it suddenly wasn’t a wonder why someone would try to hurt him- prove that he bled like the rest of them. Chris wasn’t entirely convinced he could but had seen the fearless way Victor dealt with him and realized that Malachi probably wasn’t lying to them- Victor was his one soft spot.

It must’ve convinced Yuuri too as when he spoke again it was soft and uncertain and overly hopeful, “You said Victor got out. How?”

The frightening expression across Malachi’s expression melted into something warm and soft as he replied, “I thought you’d never ask.”

-:-

Victor was born wrong- too small, Malachi thought, too fragile- and he was pink and crying like the entire world was just going to swallow him whole. His father grunted at the sight, turning from the nurse when she tried offering him his son, so Malachi stepped in to accept his new baby cousin.

“What’s his name?” Malachi remembered one of the nurses asking as blue eyes blinked up at Malachi and the baby stilled.

“Victor,” Malachi’s uncle grunted out, turning to his panting wife- Latin for conqueror.

And Malachi remembered looking down at the small thing in his arms and scoffing at the name.

-:-

Victor was three when his mother died, and all things considered her death was a peaceful one. She wasn’t murdered, at the very least, just a drug addict- a hobby that had caused ripples of talk throughout the family, but she hadn’t cared. She needed an out and her husband had been more than willing to pay for her one.

She died in her sleep, the drugs and alcohol making her sick while she’d been unconscious and in turn she suffocated on her own bile. It was a terrible way to go but, all things considered, not as bad as it could’ve been.

“Mal?” Victor had asked him several weeks after the funeral still so small and vulnerable, “Is mommy happy?”

Malachi had thought of the marriage Victor’s parents had had. He recalled the threats of divorce and the yelling and the throwing and even though Victor’s father was the head of the family he couldn’t seem to control his ailing wife- something having happened long before Victor that had poisoned their relationship.

Or maybe their relationship had always been doomed from the start. Malachi recalled his father telling him how his brother had been forced to marry the daughter of one of their old rival gangs for peace. Neither one had ever seemed to love the other, but their sense of duty had made it worth it up until the falling out.

Malachi remembered looking at the stars- vowing to never let anything like that happen to Victor- as he whispered, “Yeah. I think she finally found her peace.”

-:-

Victor was five the first time he got on the ice.

Someone Malachi didn’t like nor trust had been meeting with Victor’s father, and Malachi has heard the rumors of how he had the taste of young children and married women- a sickening human being who deserved the noose but instead got away with everything because he held _power_. Power the family suddenly _desperately_ needed.

So Malachi snuck his cousin out of the house, hating how Victor was already starting to age into his looks. He was beautiful in ways both men and women could appreciate, and Malachi wasn’t going to let him linger and become part of a negotiation like his parents had. He deserved better.

Malachi wasn’t sure why he took him ice skating except that he had always sort of wanted to try it. He’d done more falling than skating, though, so eventually just moved off the ice to watch Victor. He was clumsy and awkward and his clothes were drenched from falling but he refused to give him- a determination he couldn’t find in anyone else’s eyes that day as they skated across the ice.

Later- when the sun started to set and Malachi realized that they needed to get back before the family started missing them- he asked Victor what he thought about lessons. He wasn’t even surprised when Victor nodded his eyes, blue eyes shining brighter than any star dangling above them.

-:-

Victor was eight when his dad was diagnosed with cancer- a lost cause, nothing anyone could do. Within the next couple of months he’d be dead and Victor would have to take over the head of the family. It was the first time Malachi felt anything close to fear.

The ice skating lessons had been done in secret, but Victor had improved greatly since his first time. Now he moved with a sort of grace and beauty people couldn’t help but stop and stare. Victor had picked up on the attention as well, had made it his mission to captivate everyone around him every time he stepped on the ice.

Malachi hated to think that Victor would have to give it all up for this sort of life- especially considering he’d allowed his hair to grow out making him appear more feminine than masculine.

“I’m just saying,” Malachi reasoned to a dying man, “That since I’m older I should be the one to take over the head of the family.”

“You dare try to steal that right from my son,” Victor’s father had growled before he broke out into a coughing fit, blood splattering his lips as Malachi stared at him unyielding.

“Your _son_ doesn’t deserve this life,” Malachi argued with a passion only Victor could alight, “He’s too good, too delicate. He deserves something better. He deserves freedom, and he always has.”

Victor’s father hadn’t appreciated that, and Malachi figured he must’ve taken his anger out on his son as Victor ended up sleeping with Malachi that night asking why his father didn’t love him. Malachi reassured him that he had, that he wanted him to take up the position of head of the family, and he wasn’t even surprised when Victor confided that he didn’t want that- that he wanted to continue skating and impressing people.

Malachi kissed his head and held him until his breathing settled as he watched the stars glimmer down at them out the window. He already knew this- had seen Victor’s mother when he was five and skating for the first time- and he knew that staying in this family would kill him.

The next day he found Victor a coach- an excellent if a little short-tempered man that went by the name Yakov Feltsman- before he confronted Victor’s father about his son. He couldn’t remember what he said, what he used against the most feared man in all of Russia, and he didn’t care.

At the end of the day he managed to find Victor an out, forcing a burden upon himself he never desired to carry. It didn’t matter, though, _none_ of that mattered when Yakov started placing Victor in competitions and his cousin smiled a broad genuine smile and Malachi reminded himself that as long as Victor was free he could deal with the rest.

-:-

Victor was ten when his father died.

It had happened at one of his competitions- the first one Malachi managed to talk him into. _He’s your son_ , he remembered spatting at the ailing man, _show him the support he deserves._ Malachi had still been surprised when the man had showed up, even more so when his eyes that had been cold and lifeless for several years now, lit up at the sight of his son.

He passed soon after, his last words telling Malachi that he’d been right about Victor, before he was gone and Malachi was the head of the family.

Victor had also been ten when Malachi moved him in with Yakov, explaining to the man that Victor had nowhere else to go and that he needed him. Malachi did buy Victor a poodle, kissing his head and promising that he wasn’t being abandoned but not that Victor’s father was dead they couldn’t see each other as much.

Malachi never missed one of Victor’s competition, though, not even when his cousin grew older and mature and gorgeous in ways words could not describe and when Victor finally found people he could love and cherish as his own Malachi was finally content that Victor found his place in the world.

-:-

“You did it?” Yuuri demanded sounding impressed, “You got Victor into skating?”

“I found Victor an out,” Malachi corrected, eyes still vague and dreamy, “The skating was all him.”

“Why would you tell us all that then?” Chris demanded arms crossed and face set in a hard expression, “Why tell us so much about Victor?”

“Because I need you both to understand something,” Malachi explained, “Victor found his place at your sides so don’t turn him away because of the family he was born into. It wasn’t his fault, had never been his fault, and he needs you all more than he’ll ever admit. So don’t turn him away.”

Chris was about to say something when Yuuri- eyes glassy with tears- shook his head and promised, “Never,” and several hours later when Victor woke up it was to Yuuri sitting diligently at his side promising that he loved him.

\- Two months later –

The door opened, and Yuri found himself staring at the two idiots that’s come to visit him every day since he’d left the hospital for almost two months now. It had been sweet at first- though he couldn’t remember most of it- but now was more of an annoyance than anything else.

“What do you two want?” he snapped because he’d just seen them at the rink and the marks on his temple had long since healed but they had been there and that was enough for everyone else.

Victor was demoted to only coaching for another season due to his gunshot, something he’d wrinkled his nose at but had drew Yuri in a tight hug when he’d confronted him about it.

“The alternative is much worst, no?” he’d asked and Yuri had shook his head in agreement because he couldn’t even consider a world without Victor in it.

“We came to see you of course,” Victor explained in his stupid cheery tone as he proceeded to kiss either one of Yuri’s cheeks before moving to draw Nikolai into a gentle embrace.

“Gross,” Yuri protested as he made a show of wiping off his face, “I’m not your stupid pig Victor.”

Yuuri chuckled at the comment, hugging Yuri before moving back to where Victor stood holding gift bags. That had quickly turned into a thing as well- Victor bringing Yuri gifts. Yuuri told him it was to show his love, that almost losing him had terrified something inside of Victor.

Yuri heard that it was the idiot’s way of coping so he let him do it without much fuss. It was also sort of nice, being doted on by the man he used to watch in his living room when he was certain his father had fallen asleep.

It was almost amazing how much his life had changed, how much everything had changed, and later when they were all settled in the living room with Yuri’s grandfather laughing at something Victor said and Yuuri curled up in Victor’s side like he belonged there, Yuri couldn’t help but stop to think what he’d done to deserve all of this.

Then he decided that he didn’t care and resolved to ensure that nothing would ever change because this is what he’d dreamed of since he was little. Gold and silver was nice but the people it brought him to made everything a little more worth it.


End file.
